Hades, a love story - Sort of
by FictionFreak95
Summary: A story of perseverance & the lack thereof. For the downtrodden. About love & loss along with the betrayal & bitterness that ensues in its aftermath. Long story short, a story about Hades & how maybe he's not the bad guy, after all. 1/4 c Lucifer. 2 tbsp Meet Joe Black. 1 heaping swig of Twilight. Misc nonsense. Liberties with Greek mythology. MA, ExB AH (sort of) blah, blah, blah
1. Chapter 1 Present Day

**Chapter 1. Present Day**

Tell me something.

Between you and me.

What's the most _severe_ piece of material you've ever encountered?

And when I say severe, I mean, everything hurts like absolute Hell (no pun intended) to get up and away from said material when you're finally ready.

Be honest, here. Was it some sort of wood? Stone perhaps? Concrete?

I can't seem to recall the last time I sat on something as hard as the metal bar stool my ass is numbing on top of right now. And that's saying something, considering where I reside.

Resode.

Resided. _Idiot._

_How long have I been here, exactly, anyway?_

I'm terrified to get up in fear my joints might just break out of the sheer surrender.

Regardless of how long I've been here, apparently, it's been too long.

_Satan, I'm getting old. _

And agitated.

At this time of night, a place like this should be nearly empty. People should be stumbling home with the one-night-stand they've worked so hard to score throughout the evening, or passed out drunk on their couches somewhere. I should have the place to myself so I can drink myself into oblivion without the constant buzzing in my ear from people trying to make small talk.

Instead, the sticky floor is full of mingling, sad souls, dancing awkwardly with one another in an attempt to make some sort of connection that will make them believe they're worth something to someone.

They're failing miserably. It's inevitable.

I turn my head to watch them for a moment. A woman pushes some hair behind her ear in a shy sort of way as the man she's dancing with lowers his hands so they sit just below her waist.

I sneer.

I growl.

I taste thick, sour disdain at the back of my throat from witnessing such a ridiculous form of flirtation.

So I turn back to the glass in front of me and empty it. Then order another.

The broken, slowly spinning disco ball that hangs loosely from the ceiling somewhere above me, makes its way around and one of its few attached mirror-like squares allows light to shine into my sad little direction.

For a split second, my hand glows and I catch a glimpse of the ring that calls one of my cursed fingers home. It reminds me of where I come from, who I am, exactly, and why I will never look into the eyes of a woman as she pushes some hair behind her ear in a shy sort of way.

Not when she knows where I come from and who I am.

Pondering inconsequential matters distracts me from the task at hand so I proceed to work on the fresh drink in front of me and focus on more important matters.

A large mass I have to assume is a body of some sort bumps up against me as they pass by. The stench of beer exudes from their pores and I want to crush this tiny human's existence into oblivion but then the faint sound of music enters my senses.

A familiar sound.

One that gives me both pleasure and pain to hear.

A low "fuck" hisses out from between my lips.

I'm sick of the rain.

I'm sick of the rumbling of thunder as the storm outside tries to decide what it's going to do, and where it's going to go.

_Move on, already._

"Is that an offer or a threat, honey?" The older bartender eyes me curiously from behind her counter, then winks.

If she only knew.

The question is enough to encourage me to push myself up off of this bar stool after all.

I stretch through the pain in my joints, toss a few hundred dollars down onto the counter, and leave.

I specifically chose this establishment because I wanted some peace and fucking quiet. Instead, it's been filled with drunks and whores all evening. The stench of stale beer that _should _have been able to make me forget about my own problems instead has me mulling over every single moment from the past several months.

I push my weight against the blackened exit door and it creaks in retaliation. Surprisingly, it takes a bit more effort to actually open the damn door.

_Fucking Hell. _

Outside, I let the cold water falling from the sky drench me as I move down the street, hoping it will wash away the choices I've made. The gestures I've allowed. The people I've trusted.

And then I remember the choices _others _have made.

The outcome of those choices.

The pain it's caused on too many accounts.

And I plot my revenge.


	2. Chapter 2 Thief

**Chapter 2. Thief**

I inhale and hold it while the cold, night air surrounds me like a familiar blanket. After I exhale, the sides of my mouth rise in satisfaction and triumph.

My first breath of freedom is delicious. Just as I imagined it might be. I feel more alive than I have in a millennia.

Leaving the underworld has been on my deceitful mind forever and a day. For the past thousand years or so, actually committing the action has proven to be more difficult than it sounds. It's a bit akin to what humans might view as a caged bird. They aren't exactly happy with their circumstances but given the chance to fly, they rarely take flight.

Tonight, I flew.

And once I made the painstaking decision to indeed leave, everything else seemed quite easy.

Arranging for a replacement, check.

Walking past the idiotic rivermen to exit my domain unaccounted for, Check.

Deciding what I want to do first and foremost, pretty much check.

Perhaps spending an eternity in the dark has groomed me to gravitate to a similar environment upon my arrival above ground. The difference? The bodies here are full of life and they seem quite happy.

I've ended up outside of a plain, three-story tall, brick building. Bright, colorful lights flash through the windows and loud music pulses from the inside. From where I stand, I can hear screams of delight from the people inside and it makes me impatient to enter and see what has them so energized.

I hesitate to go in just yet. Being shunned and stereotyped practically my whole life has me wondering if there will be a lull in the celebrations once the humans see who's joined them.

I close my eyes and attempt to decide what my next steps should be.

Just a few minutes into my contemplation. an interruption of the serendipitous kind emerges.

"Long night?" a low, even voice somewhere behind me asks. My senses are on alert immediately and I'm curious as to why a man, alone, in the middle of the night, in this neighborhood, would choose to attempt casual conversation with the likes of me.

I open my eyes to see a tall, clean cut, well dressed man closing the door to an overtly expensive vehicle. He pulls a cigarette out from the pack in his jacket pocket and lights it, then offers one to me.

"No, thanks," I reply cautiously as I size him up.

At first glance, he looks like he fits right in, here. Upon a closer look, you can see that even with his fine clothing and gelled hair, he's trying too hard. Not like someone who's out to relax and have a few drinks. He's a little too stiff for that as he pulls at his cuffs nervously and appears to be reminding himself to blink.

Why should he care so much?

Who is he trying to impress, specifically?

His physique tells me he takes care of himself, cancer inducing habits aside. And his car tells me he's made of money.

Plenty of money.

These things are naturally impressive to most people.

"Are you lost?" I ask out of sheer habit. I've inquired the same of millions of souls who end up in my world, not understanding why they're there until I ask them that one simple question.

It's almost as though he knows this when he smiles a crooked smile at me and shakes his head. "This is my bar," he answers arrogantly, giving a small nod to the building we're standing in front of. "One of them, anyway."

A cool, smooth, almost evil charm emits from him. I can't quite put my finger on what it is that's off about him. And then I realize who he is and why he's here. Surprisingly, he seems to be struggling with the decision he has to make tonight.

My interest is piqued, and an idea of some sort is beginning to form.

"You have many of these establishments?" I make small talk as I debate my options.

"Enough," he answers with a huff of a slight laugh, amused with himself.

I shouldn't care what he does with any of the humans on this earth; all it means for me is more souls to take care of in the underworld. Including his, some day. However, once you cross the threshold of millions upon millions, it's really all the same.

He may be providing me an opportunity of convenience here, though. "Are you here to observe, or engage?" It's a tad straightforward, but I need more information. Just to make sure.

Perhaps I'm wrong about him.

"I hear there are some interesting patrons this evening," he tells me. And I know his meaning, despite his attempt to disguise it. Perhaps he senses who I am as well and feels he can confide in me.

I'm not a confidant, however. I'm a competitor.

When he practically licks his lips while measuring the building before us, I know the answer to my previous question.

For a moment, I wonder who his man (or woman) servant is inside, giving him the heads-up about the _interesting_ ones. And what is the makeup of such a human?

"All this way for _one_ patron?" Even though he purposefully used the word patrons, something about the way he says it - I understand he's here for a specific individual. "Surely they aren't worth the effort you've put in this evening."

He doesn't flinch at the fact that I've insinuated the singularity of his intentions. He knows, I know, we're moving past that already.

"She's worth it," he insists, unthinkingly, before taking a long, thoughtful intake of air, then letting it out slowly.

"You're set in your decision, then?" He plans not only to engage, but destroy something or someone. It causes an unrest inside of me that's unexpected, that he would put an end to the very things I've come here to observe and appreciate.

Does he not know what he deprives them of?

Does he even care?

No. He doesn't.

He also doesn't have to answer me at this point, but he does. "I haven't had a good… experience, in a few weeks."

He's chosen his words wisely.

Not wisely enough.

My decision about what to do regarding my own situation is an easy one tonight, after all. And there's no need to put off the inevitable.

"You'll be waiting a while longer, I'm afraid," I tell him matter-of-factly. Before he can question what I mean, with an indiscreet snap of my fingers, he's gone.

Don't worry. He's not dead.

Not really, anyway. That would be cheating. I don't cheat.

He's just… somewhere in between. Indefinitely.

In his abrupt departure, by design, the keys to his car have fallen to the ground, and I happily pick them up. I push a button to unlock the sleek, black 2-door BMW 428i then slide into the driver's seat, taking a moment to fully appreciate the comfort of this man's taste.

"Nice."

I look around a bit then pull open the middle compartment to find his wallet. I open it up to see whose persona I will be taking for a while.

I read the name with disdain.

"Edward Cullen."

Then I shrug, it's as good a name as any, I suppose. I slip the wallet into my pocket and lock his car up again before heading into the bar I apparently own to see what sort of fun awaits me.

"Nice to meet you, Edward," I say to the night air. "I'm Hades."

* * *

**PSA: Thanks for reading (if you're still here). Thanks Sue, thanks Chrisann. Thank you, Ellipses god. Need some music for this guy? Try Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes for this chapter (maybe The Sounds of Silence by Disturbed for the last one).**


	3. Chapter 3 Prodigal

**Chapter 3. Prodigal**

"Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!"

Somehow, despite my previous expectations, the screams are like music to my ears. I suppose anything other than "please, I don't deserve this, don't! Don't! Please!" would be an improvement. Plus the fact that I've never in my life been around so many people who think that I am this fucking awesome. That's golden.

My first official night of freedom from the depths of Hell (literally) and there's already a crowd surrounding me in celebration. Of what is inconsequential, mostly because I haven't the slightest idea. The important thing to remember here is... it feels good.

It's hot with excitement from newly discovered territory. Sweet like intrigue. And just a touch of satisfied wanderlust - wanderlust that I finally followed through with.

I can't honestly say that I understand the human race, nor will I ever attempt to because why bother? But I have come to understand that they will find any reason to drink themselves stupid on any given day. And I like it.

The booming joyfulness sounds from all corners of the bar as I down yet another one of their alcoholic beverages of choice - tequila.

This is my tenth, tonight.

And it tastes... okay, I guess. I'm not sure how it's supposed to affect me personally, but it appears to make the humans in this establishment lose all sense of inhibition. The men take full advantage of the women, the women take advantage of the men. I'm neutral as to which is worse, but I will say, it's all within reason. There's a large man posted at the entrance of the bar who ensures this.

I've witnessed his wrath. Trust me.

He'd do well in the underworld - I've already made a mental note of him. I toast to it, unbeknownst to my newfound drunken acquaintances. It does nothing for me, by the way. The tequila, sadly, but more directly, the aggressive humans.

Nothing I haven't seen before. Although not in this context, I'll admit.

I'm about to entertain the mass of people surrounding me with yet another shot when there's an unforgiving pounding behind my ears that is not only painful, but deafening. To me, at least.

It's a combination of low, joint aching vibrations, the thunderous booms that accompany a bad storm with a smidge of knife slicing through my skin. That I can disregard, but the high pitched torture I like to call a whine of some sort, that one is getting to me.

I suppose it was only a matter of time before my absence was noticed. I did think I'd have a bit longer before the search parties were set loose, however. No one here seems to notice, and I envy them because I know what's coming if I continue to ignore the warning. Don't get me wrong, I'm going to ignore it, but it will be unbearable soon.

"Hey Boss." The large man who guards the heathens nudges me. I nearly forgot who I'm supposed to be.

I regroup successfully.

"What is it?" I holler over the masses.

"T-minus four," he tells me, then slips away to his post, once again.

T-minus four? What is that? Some sort of algebraic equation I'm responsible for solving?

Maybe this is Hell.

Whatever it is, it's quickly forgotten when the next tiny glass of alcohol is handed to me. I swallow in hopes that maybe this one will affect me. And yes, I feel a slight, unexpected chill go down my spine as I drink. I'm elated. Hopeful. Until, that is, I realize that it's not from the tequila.

My short-lived celebration is gone, just like that.

I scan the crowd and feel it hovering; taunting me.

The chill, it seems, is coming from a group of particularly loud, obnoxious humans that are currently descending from another floor of the bar. I barely have time to contemplate why any of them would affect me in any way whatsoever until the troublesome noise begins again.

_Pound. pound. pound._

_Screeeeeeech._

"Fuck." I rub at the back of my neck where the incessant annoyance echoing through it just got worse.

"Drink! Drink! Drink!"

I'm handed a double shot glass this time and I happily empty it in one fell swoop. I wait, and wait... and I am rewarded with the slightest sensation. Finally.

There's a tightness in my jaw this time. A warmth in my chest. Then that chill again.

"What the f-"

_Pound. Pound. Pound. Screeeeeeech!_

"Jesus Christ, okay!" I throw the glass across the room and the blurting out of my family's nemesis surprises not only myself, but the group of drunks around me as well. They take a step back and there's a faint look of horror on some of their faces as though they've just seen a ghost.

Or perhaps Hades.

So I calm my temper and then I smile. Because it's not nice to frighten the poor defenseless humans. Luckily, they're drunk enough, or perhaps high enough, to not have realized what they've just seen was real. Otherwise this night may have been cut very short.

"Drinks are on me," I tell the bartender, cool as ice. I need to handle this situation.

"How many?" She asks, seemingly astounded at the instructions I've just given her.

"All of them." I give her a wave as I stalk away to find some privacy. About the only option I have is outside, so I find the exit. As I head for the door I nearly trample a small framed woman who clearly has no sense of watching where the _fuck_ she's going.

"Watch the -"

_Screeeeeeeech! Pound!_

"Fuck."

"I could say the same for you, buddy," she growls at me as though this is my fault. And yet, she's grinning, ear to ear. Bubbly, but not in a drunken stupor sort of way like the rest of the people here. It stops me cold and confuses me. Is this woman happy or angry? Pick one, for the love of Satan.

I'm about to give her some advice on her tactics with regards to conflict when I notice what she's wearing. I'll be polite and neglect to mention that either she was not aware of the dress code here or she ignored it by wearing something that covered every inch of her body, from the combat boots on her feet, to the baggy jeans, to the long-sleeved hoodie and oh, don't get me started on the baseball cap. Could she at least have the decency to celebrate an athletic team instead of some sort of supernatural fandom?

Okay, I guess I wasn't polite after all.

And also...

"Do you really need all of these handbags?" I ask her, annoyed. I don't know why it should bother me. She's of no consequence. However, I was under the impression that the standard day-to-day, personal carry around baggage had a one-per-person ratio here. Why I know this, I couldn't tell you. It's just an observation I've made. My mind is a treasure trove of useless knowledge. Something that comes from existing as long as I have, I suppose.

No such current knowledge of such a bizarre multi-tote carrying creature like this one, however, which amuses me a little.

"Oh," she says with a short, mystifying sort of laugh and hoists one of the bags back up over her shoulder. "Designated driver." She lifts her hands as though to mockingly celebrate something and waves them, palm outward, at me. "Yay."

She blows some hair out of her face, revealing a small scar at the corner of her left eye. And then it's gone again.

She's absolutely ridiculous.

And yet. The chill. It's…

_POUND._

_POUND._

_POUND._

_Scccccccccrrrrrrr….eeeeeeeeeeeeeecch._

"Are you okay?" she asks.

It's only then that I realize I'm now on my knees from the pain behind my ears. I look up at her, but I'm unable to hear the next words out of her mouth. The sound inside my head is much louder than she could ever be. The screech has turned into something more like a large, god-sized poker being dragged across a stone floor and then set on fire before stabbing me in the eye.

I let out a snarl and leave the bizarre little woman who doesn't know her own feelings to go find out why in Hell my brother is being such a _dick_.

* * *

**PSA: Infinite thanks for reading, for Sue's beta mastery, and for Chrisann. If you're following the music (and my brain) - it's Tequila by The Champs. _Duh_. But look for the Vinnie Maniscalco Remix version.**


	4. Chapter 4 Negotiator

**Chapter 4. Negotiator**

"What exactly do you think you're doing?"

_Here we go. _

Epic eye roll in three… two…

"I mean, seriously." In the alley behind my newly claimed hangout, my brother throws his hands up in dramatic frustration as he prattles on about responsibility and the dangers of wreaking havoc on Earth. I know by now it's all just a show for the higher-ups. They'll know how disappointed he is with me and nod in judgemental approval of how incredibly proud they are of at least one of their offspring. If they're even paying attention, that is.

I ask you this. Why. Should. I. Give. A. Shit?

He's not really my brother anyway. Not technically, if you know what I mean. It's just something we've all called each other over the centuries. In reality, we're all bastards.

I keep my cool despite my growing irritation that he interrupted a perfectly good evening away from life as I knew it two days ago. I use the word "life" loosely, here, of course. I know this. I mean, how can you really live when there's zero lighting and a million lost souls crying in desperation for one...more...chance day, after _day_, after day, after-

"Excuse me."

A drunk stumbles out from the back door of the building and practically falls into the brick wall across from him. He struggles with his pants, relieves himself (which seems to take for-ev-er) and then stumbles back into the building without another word.

"Not exactly clear on what you're getting all bent out of shape about."

"Bent out of…" My older brother rubs at his temple. "Are you even listening to yourself right now?"

"What do you want to know? Ask me anything. I'm happy to explain."

He takes a deep breath but he's still stiff as a board. Then he looks me in the eyes while narrowing his own

"Why?"

"Why what?" I know what he's talking about. I do like to screw with him, though. It's too amusing to miss out on.

He huffs out in frustration. "Why did you leave the underworld in chaos to come" - he spreads his big bulky arms wide - "_here_?"

And at that, I bark out a laugh as loud as the screeching he's capable of.

"Why _not_ is the better question, my friend." I look up at the sky. "I mean it's so… spacious here."

He begins to correct me. "We're _not-_"

"The sun _shines _here. And the people use more words than just uhnnnnngh," I say while doing my best zombie impersonation.

Nothing. I get nothing out of this guy. Why do I even try?

Finally, he crosses his arms and shakes his oversized head at me in disapproval.

"Come on. That was…" I give up. He's got no sense of humor, anyway. So I wave a hand to leave him and get back to my drinking. "Well, if that was all, I'm just gonna get back to-"

"You're going home." He tells me just as I pull the door open to abandon this conversation. Had he said _anything _else, I would have kept going.

Instead, I spin around. "Um, no, I'm not."

"Yes. You are." He begins to stalk toward me. I close the door.

"I'm a big boy. I do whatever the fuck I want. And I no longer _want _to babysit a bunch of deadbeats." Literally. They're all dead.

"It's your job."

"Yeah, one I never interviewed for, if I recall correctly. Or even asked for."

"It's for the greater good."

Another laugh escapes me. "That's easy for the ruler of the sea to say, isn't it? You swim with mermaids, have your way with humans when you feel like it and then sun yourself on rocks for the rest of the day."

His face turns grave. "We're all sacrificing in our own ways, and you know it."

Do I. He only reminds us all every, _fucking_, day. For, and I cannot stress this enough, _thousands _of years.

Another eye roll is required here.

"Okay, point made. But I'm still staying."

"Brother..." he warns me with a stone cold stare and a clenching of his jaw.

And look, I'm not an idiot here. I know that if he gets angry enough, this could all turn very ugly. The thing is, though, I have a temper too.

Still, I like to keep the peace where I can.

"P. Give me a week. That's all I'm asking here. One. Week. The underworld is covered. Nothing has happened so far and nothing is going to go to shit in seven fucking days." That wasn't my original plan. I didn't really have one. But this is as good as any.

He rubs at his eyes for a moment. "You aren't seriously telling me that bitch of a door keeper is who you left in charge on your… excursion?"

"Hey, she's not a bitch," I correct him. "She's just very moody." I grin.

The goddess of night would definitely _not _like hearing the "B" word being used in conjunction with her attitude. I mean, can you blame her? I'm doing him a solid by educating him here.

"Like I said," he begins.

I interrupt, "And she's not a door keeper. That's rude. She's doing me a huge favor and besides, she likes it. It's different. She's bored. Like me."

Also tossed away in a dank, dark, smelly dungeon, like me. Forgotten. But not anymore.

I bide my patience with my brother from another mother as he mulls his options over. I'm prepared to fight for this break from the norm. I prefer not to, but I'm prepared.

Luckily for both of us and the hundred or so humans in the bar just on the other side of the wall I'm leaning against, he decides to ignore what his senses are telling him and he concedes.

"One week," he tells me. Like it's a threat of some sort.

Despite all efforts not to be a smartass, I feel the side of my mouth lift in success. I nod and leave him there without another word.

I typically don't look gift horses in the mouth.

Or gods who can make this rain drown me in the exact spot I'm standing.

As I enter the loud room filled with humans again, I hear my brother give me one last word of advice, inside my head.

"_Don't get yourself into any trouble, Hades. I don't want to have to get you out of it."_

And as he says it, I spot the small-framed, human woman I ran into earlier. She's sitting at the bar, alone, with her multiple handbags surrounding her. She's sipping on a clear drink filled with ice as she bounces in her chair to the music playing from the corner of the room.

_Absolutely ridiculous._

"Trouble, schmouble," I think out loud to myself as I cross the room.

He's not my fucking keeper.

Not anymore.

* * *

**PSA: Hades sends his most sincere appreciation for the shout outs from A Different Forest & The Lemonade Stand this past week. Consider your bribe for a free pass into Elysium accepted. ALSO, abundant thanks from the bottom of this writer's blackened soul for reading (still), for SueBee's beta beautifying, & Chrisann's love for this guy. Musically inquisitive? Try SAY AMEN by Panic! At The Disco for the end of this one.**


	5. Chapter 5 Liar

**Chapter 5. Liar**

"So you purposefully go out with these…" I look over at the women that the offbeat little bag-handler is here with and attempt to come up with an appropriate word to describe them.

I fail, of course. They're all shamelessly sharing parts of their bodies with their dance partners in ways that make even me blush.

I'm kidding.

I don't blush.

It's wasteful. But still, these women...

"People," I finally say. And she nods her head, joyously, as though it's the most magnificent thing she's ever done in her short, pitiful life.

"Not all of them. And only sometimes." She points over the crowd of them, who are now dancing in hive like formation. "I'm really only _good _friends with one of them, but it's a special occasion and they _really _needed a driver tonight and I thought, you know, why not?"

It's then that I see a bit more clearly. She doesn't get out much. I believe this is what sets her apart from the rest of the humans I've encountered tonight.

A song begins that is slower than the previous music that's been playing throughout the night and this woman becomes anxious.

"Oh!" She puts her drink of what I now know is water down and grabs my hand. The familiar chill runs down my spine. I nearly flinch away from her, but her grip is surprisingly strong for her size.

"Do you wanna dance?" She grins eagerly at me. "Please say yes, I love this song so much!"

She is so odd.

I have to say, zero plans to dance. I'm not a dancer, I'm a guardian of souls who've passed and torturer of those who try to buck the system. I simply want to drink myself into a haze of fun for a while yet I find myself being pulled along by this miniscule human with absolutely no resistance whatsoever.

Before I know it, we're standing in the middle of these drunken, sweaty people while a song plays that puts me into some sort of a trance. The small, peculiar woman with multiple hand bags that she's left piled up over at the bar gazes bewilderedly up into my eyes.

"You don't smile much, do you?" she asks with a tilt of her head as she slides her hands around my waist.

The chill from before is racing down my back again.

Despite the fact that it should be a warning for me to put some distance between us, my hands silently mimic hers and they settle to rest on her hips. She's soft and warm. A direct contradiction of who, or _what _I'm used to spending time with. And those eyes. Are they brown? Green? Specs of green? I can't quite tell. It's too dark in here.

Honestly, I hadn't thought much about the number of times I've smiled in this lifetime. It's not as though there's been much need for it. So I don't know how to answer her. And I'm guessing she's not actually looking for a reply, because she rests her head against my chest and leads me in slow, rhythmic swaying that coincides with the song playing over top of us.

What is she?

Who sent her?

And why is she committed to making me so damned uncomfortable?

I think the word but even as it's forming I realize, I'm not. Uncomfortable that is. I should be. This entire interaction with her is not anything I'm normally interested in. Surprisingly, I find this _particular _interaction, here, with her, quite… calming.

Her sways become more pronounced although still quite slow. I find myself reacting in ways I can't say I remember reacting to anything. Ever.

I feel her heartbeat faintly, against my chest - can almost hear it inside my head. I find it fascinating. The souls who find their way to my realm typically are not breathing, and I've absolutely no reason to settle close enough to any of my siblings to ever hear it. Feeling life against me like this... It reminds me of what I have and have _not_ been exposed to in such a long, damn time.

The urge to both run and stay put at the same time is overwhelming and puzzling, to say the least. My conflicting emotions are causing me to become swept up in the humanistic actions of most of the people here tonight. I rest my chin, softly, on the top of her head as we slow dance in that small space amongst the insignificant beings that are there with us. I close my eyes for a mere _second_, and the image of a life I never knew flashes inside my imagination. One that doesn't involve darkness and fear. Or incessant boredom. Or keeping track of who did what terrible thing in their lifetime and how long they must be punished for it.

My eyes flutter open again and I pull away from her, just a smidge. Strangely, I find I'm more terrified of this fragile human than I ever have been of my family.

She's looking up at me again. Curiosity looming.

And that chill. That irritating fucking chill.

"I just realized I don't even know your name," she says with a groggy sound to her voice. "I'm Isabella. Friends call me Bella." She sings it slightly. "Or, you know… _yo_, whichever."

A half smile spreads on her face and she lets out the shortest of laughs.

"Isabella." Her name floats off of my lips and makes me idiotic for a moment. I nearly blurt out who I really am, which is an absolutely terrible idea. Because, let's be honest, we all know how that would go over.

_Hello, Isabella, great to meet you. I'm Hades. Ruler of the underworld and deceiver of souls. But hey, don't listen to the rumors… _Then an awkward moment of embarrassment. And she runs for the mountains either because she thinks I'm a complete psychopath, or worse, she believes me.

Until this precise moment, I hadn't thought about the consequences of acquiring another persona. Random drunks partying with other random drunks - it's every day here. They forget you once the buzz is gone. But now…

"I'm…"

I don't know how long I let the word hang there before she says, "Nameless?" and giggles.

"Edward," I tell her. "Cullen. I'm Edward Cullen."

Her face changes a bit. A small V forms between her eyebrows and I wonder if I've said it wrong.

"I'm sorry," she screams over the now loud music. "Did you just say, Edward Cullen?"

"That's right." I grin. I force myself to stick to the lie.

"_The_, Edward Cullen?" She almost looks as though she doesn't believe me.

And, the grin is gone. "Y-yes?"

Shit. Does she know this vampire? I'm suddenly re-thinking his motives. And my motives. And her status.

"Wow," Isabella blinks a few times and pushes away from me. She shoves her way through the sea of people to make her way over to the bar. Quickly, she gathers up the purses she left there. Unattended, I might add. She's lucky they're still there. Or, maybe not.

"What seems to be the issue?" I ask as I follow behind. She's being very rude all of a sudden, and it's not setting right for me.

"I'm a little embarrassed, I guess." She laughs without looking at me again. It's not the laughter she had earlier, though. This one is different. Sharp around the edges.

"Why is that?" I ask her, sincerely wanting to know what I did wrong. I reach out for her but she pulls away, subtly.

"I mean..." She looks around us, as though she's searching for an answer. "I guess I don't understand why you're here. With me. In this…"

"My bar!" I nod and try to smile like he did outside. I'm not sure it's coming off correctly though. Isabella is backing away from this situation entirely, it seems.

"Yes, your bar. One of ten in the metropolitan area."

Ten.I speculate as to why he would need so many but I don't have the time to think it through right now.

"And?"

"I thought you were…" she trails off, attempting to think of a word.

"What?" I urge, wanting to know. He can't be _that bad._ Can he?

"Well, to be blunt, a recluse."

Okay, not so terrible. I can deal with recluse. Hell, I am the epitome of recluse. "Funny story, I-"

She cuts me off. "With extreme bi-polar disorder and who has a _really _broad sex life, seeing how you have your way with a different woman every night, practically."

"Um." Wow.

"Sometimes multiple."

"I-"

"In a room you had specially made somewhere in your house that you like to call the dungeon."

What the fuck is wrong with this guy? And by the way, only some of that resembles me. The rest is more my father's style.

"Look-"

"And… you hardly _ever _go out. You're more of an _order off the internet _kind of guy, so why now? Why here? Why _me_?"

She's offended. I see it now. Should this not be a compliment that she's garnered the attention of someone who I would have to assume is very well off and quite good looking, might I add?

In an attempt to come up with a good reason for being here, I lose my ability to speak, and in doing so, I also lose her altogether. She shakes her head in disappointment, and it's worse than when my brother does it. The chill is gone. The curiosity, dissipated. She slips away through the crowd to find her friends, I presume.

And I can't let this go. I can't let _her _go, for some reason. I search for the large mound of purses she carries with her. When I see them, I also see that she's gathering up her troops and attempting to leave. Not happening. I mean, let's just clear the air here. I could walk away. It's not like there aren't plenty of women just like her out there on the dance floor that I could study and question and maybe even have my way with. But none of them have been quite as… what's the damned word I'm looking for?

"We're out," I hear her tell her friends and they all whine in unison but follow her out of the bar.

"Genuine," I finally say.

And she does it so effortlessly. With one look of curiosity. One tilt of her head. _One chill down my spine._

Not in the underworld, not on Olympus. And certainly not in any of the souls I've crossed paths with have I encountered a being who isn't putting on a mask for everyone.

She simply is who she is.

I find that extremely interesting. I haven't experienced interesting in… well, you get it by now. I _came _here for something different. To get away from the norm. To learn something new.

What could possibly be more new to me than honesty?

I push through the sea of drunken, tired humans and make my way back outside. Isabella is shepherding the women she's with into a newly washed mini van that I truly hope doesn't belong to her.

As I approach, she doesn't notice me. I take a moment to remember who I am, and it is certainly not the person she described inside.

As she begins to slip inside her car, I hold the door before she can shut it.

"Isabella."

"Ohhhhhh, Isabelllllllllllllahhhhh, ooooh la la," some of the drunks in her backseat sing, mocking me. Or her. I'm not sure which.

She rolls her eyes and steps out again in order to keep whatever she's about to say semi-private.

"Look, Edward. Mr. Cullen. I appreciate the attention, I guess." She laughs and tucks some hair away behind her ear. "But I'm not… I mean… I can't..." She takes a breath and regroups, leaning in a bit. "I'm not interested in what you probably had planned for later."

"Edward," I say to her.

"Excuse me?"

_Call me Hades._

"Call me Edward."

"I-"

I close the door and step closer.

"And I didn't plan for anything to happen later." I have no plan at all, actually. No rhyme or reason behind my curiosity. Who can control such things? I'm simply winging it here, above ground.

"You-"

"Don't listen to the rumors," I say softly into her ear, repeating part of my earlier, imagined conversation. Only this time, there is no awkward moment. No running away. No horrified response. Although Isabella seems to have stopped breathing at some point.

And I see why Edward licked his lips earlier. I also see that she is most assuredly the _interesting _patron he claimed to be here for. I admit, in this moment, she is absolutely tantalizing. Ridiculous. But tantalizing, nonetheless.

"I'd like to see you again," I tell her.

She swallows, thinks it over for what feels like forever, and finally looks me in the eyes and tells me, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"It's not only a good idea, Isabella, it's the best idea I've had in ages."

So. Many. Ages.

When her lips part to respond, I feel a twinge of hope rising.

"It was really nice meeting you, Edward. Thanks for the dance."

She smiles politely.

She slides into her minivan.

She closes the door.

And leaves.

I watch the oversized silver vehicle take her away, and I ponder the strange woman. She seems reserved, yet there's an adventurous being inside dying to break free. A trait I feel I share with her.

"It was nice meeting you as well, Isabella," I say to the night air. The mention of her name brings a familiar chill. I shake it off.

_Not a good idea, indeed._

She may have reservations about the vampire's reputation. She has no idea how much better he would seem if he were standing beside the likes of me right now.

Clearly she has no intention of seeing me again. Her reservations serve her well. However, we'll have to see about softening those reservations.

* * *

**PSA: A little raven told Hades that LayAtHomeMom mentioned him on her story Beneath the Branches. He sends his deepest, darkest thanks from the underworld. Also many thanks for reading this fuckery. Sue beta'd - even whilst on cold meds. She's da bomb diggity. And Chrisann stamped her approval, so, here we are. If you're wondering what Hades danced to, it was Purple Rain by Prince.**_  
_


	6. Chapter 6 Conspirer

**Chapter 6. Conspirer**

Words are scarce when I attempt to compare waking up in an actual bed to my previous existence. On top of which, I have two words for you:

Penthouse. View.

It's like being on top of the world here. Which is ironic, don't you agree? I didn't sleep. I have no need to. If I had, I'm certain I would have dreamt of Isabella and visions of a life completely opposite the one I've lived up to now. As it is, I took complete satisfaction in simply lying here all night. Doing _nothing_. Hearing _nothing_.

It was priceless.

For the past hour or so, I've been anxiously awaiting the sunrise. As it begins to glow, higher and higher before me, I let its brightness cover my face, and I shut my eyes to appreciate its warmth.

I don't recall the last time I experienced the sun or felt its powerful rays against my skin.

Something about it is relaxing. Soothing. Much like having Isabella's body pressed against mine on a random dance floor while slow, calming music plays for us.

Admittedly, I hadn't expected to feel much of anything on my trip above ground except for the satisfaction of being free for a while . My goal was to break away from what I _have _to do and finally take the opportunity to do something I _want _to do.

_Whatever _I want. _Whenever _I want.

I figured I would experience a drunken stupor so I could forget about the millions of souls I'm held accountable for on a day to day occasional slice of delicious food, perhaps. But human connection?

The entire encounter with Isabella last night has me rethinking every assumption I've ever made about the human race.

It's always been a given to me that the many thousands of souls in my domain deserved to be there. After meeting one who seems so innocent in so many ways, I wonder how many more might be like her or whether she's some sort of exception to the rule.

I swing my legs over the side of the king size bed. I scratch the mop of hair on the top of my head and make my way over to one of the balconies I now appear to own. Outside, I lean on the railing and look over the city below.

I breathe in.

I close my eyes.

I listen.

I feel.

And then I sense her.

"There you are," I whisper to the morning sky. The tingling chill she tends to thrust upon me begins to form, and I know she's at a park of some sort, about five to six miles away.

Time has no meaning to me, but for humans, it's rather early. I cannot help but wonder what reason she has for not only being awake at this hour, but for being out and about as well.

On my way back inside to find a shower, I stop to think on something Isabella had said the night before; about how Edward Cullen keeps women in his dungeon.

It's an absurd thing to try and replicate something like that here on Earth, where they have absolutely no idea what a dungeon is. _Not really. _And there is most definitely _not _one here in this apartment.

_Rumors, indeed._

I appreciate the archaic humor in people getting one's persona wrong.

"Welcome to my world," I tell the vampire, although I'm fairly certain he cannot hear me. I shower and find myself something that might be construed as "casual" from the closet. I go to leave and see what Isabella is up to, but I'm stopped short by the ringing that comes from somewhere inside the apartment. When I find the telephone responsible for the irritating noise, I'm not sure if I want to answer it but find myself doing just that.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Ed. How'd it go last night?"

I clear my throat. I have no idea who this is or what he's talking about, much less how to answer him. Then a name suddenly pops into my head.

"Emmett?"

How did I know that?

"Anyone else come through for you like a champ, last night?"

Hmmm.

When I don't answer, he elaborates. "The girl?"

Ah.

This must be the man-servant. I deduct that he may also be the large door guardian from the bar. I'll have to react cautiously.

"It wasn't the right time."

"I'm sorry, I think I just heard you wrong, was that a _no_?"

I'm not quite sure how to play this out. If I allow this human man-servant, or whatever he is to question me, I'm setting the tone for future conversations. If I'm too abrasive, I may give myself away. For all I know, the vampire allows his employees to treat him this way on a regular basis.

"Hellll_ooooooo_," he sings from the other end of the phone. "Do you have any idea how much trouble it was to find-"

Instinctively, I react how I would if anyone ever spoke to me this way. "If I say it's not the right time, then it's not the right _fucking _time, Emmett."

I hear him huff on the other end of the line.

"Typical," he says and then apparently, all is forgotten. "Hey are you swinging by today or… sorry… is it _not the right time _for that either?"

Or maybe not.

His sarcasm is grating on my nerves.

"I don't know yet," I tell him. "If I do, I'll be sure to find you."

_And send you so far into the depths of the underworld that you won't be able to see your hand in front of your face unless I set it on fire._

"Ok, later then."

He hangs up before I can reply, and I'll admit, I'm grateful. I have much more important things to deal with than the bar industry. I grab the keys to the BMW and head out. As I'm in the elevator, waiting to reach the lobby, I wonder about this Emmett. _Human? Vampire? _Does it matter? Not really, I decide. He's a side note. But one I'll need to keep an eye on.

Once downstairs, I've already forgotten the exchange. I drive to where I now know Isabella is with several animals she's either stolen or owns, I'm not sure which. After I park, I find her, sitting on a bench, alone, watching several canines as they run after one another throughout the spacious grounds.

So, she collects purses _and _creatures.

Duly noted.

I start to approach her but think twice and pause to simply observe her for a bit.

She looks very interested in her phone for a while. She types frantically and then scrolls through whatever it is she's found. She gets up and throws some toys for the hyperactive animals, then paces as she waits for them to return to her again, while scrolling through her phone.

Once she sits down again, her foot bounces like she's anxious or nervous about something. She rubs at the back of her neck and stretches it out. As her head tilts, I appreciate the milky skin she's exposing.

To me, it seems.

And I'm drawn to it.

It's not until I'm just behind her that I notice I've closed the space between us. Before I can let her name escape my lips again, she somehow hears me and spins in surprise.

"Holy-" _not quite. _"Edward." Her hand flies to her chest. "What in the world are you doing here?"

The way her breasts heave as she attempts to catch her breath causes me to notice other things about her this morning. She's no longer wearing a long sleeve hoodie, but is now in a short sleeve t-shirt with a deep V in the neckline.

_Lucious_.

Her skin glows as the sun breaks through a cluster of clouds over head.

_Everything _about her is so different in the sunlight.

Her eyes for example. Definitely green. The deepest green I believe I've even known. And her lips. _So red._ My eyes move to her neck then. I swear I can hear her heartbeat and its rhythm causes my focus to blur.

"Edward?"

"What?" I snap back into the present and realize I'm staring. "Sorry, I was out and about, and saw the herd of animals over here. When I realized that was you sitting alone, I thought I'd come say hello to the odd woman with multiple handbags. Which I notice are not accompanying you this morning."

She lets out an absolutely beautiful laugh and her smile lingers.

I shiver from the chill she gives me, again.

"You are so weird," she says before whistling at her canines.

_I'm_ the weird one. Really? "I'm not the one who collects odd things like purses and… dogs apparently."

She begins putting leashes on each one as they run up to her. "They're not mine," she advises with an expression that questions why I would ever think such a thing. "I'm dog walking."

One of them sees me and lets out a menacing growl.

"Barkly. That is not nice," she tells him but he doesn't listen to her. And when he bares his teeth at me, I bare mine back. He whimpers and sits.

"Good boy," Isabella and I both say at the same time.

She scratches his head to show him some affection. I raise an eyebrow at the beast and when the rest of the mongrels approach, they fall in line quite quickly. Most want to throw an unapproving glare my way as well, but none follow through on it. Not when they meet my gaze and realize I could snap their necks in a split second for disrespecting me.

"Okay, everyone ready?" she asks them as though she expects an answer. Which further proves my theory that there is something a bit off about her.

Not even my hounds in Hell speak, for Satan's sake.

"I'll walk with you," I insist as she begins to leave, but she makes a pishing sound at me.

"Oh, no, you've got your car," she waves. "I'm good. Besides-" she tugs on the leashes in her hands- "I don't think anyone will be bothering me with these guys around."

I would not be so sure about that.

"Clearly."

As she begins to go again, my stubborn side shows itself. "However," I say as I catch up to her, "I wouldn't feel comfortable letting you go off on your own, alone. Not in this neighborhood."

The perplexed gaze on her face snatches away the greatness of my noble offer.

"Did I offend you?"

"Edward?"

"Yes."

"I live in this neighborhood."

"Oh. Well..." I can only make one feeble attempt at a smile to gloss over the ass I just made of myself. _And I thought the underworld was difficult. _"You probably don't need an escort, then."

Isabella breathes out a short chuckle.

"Have a great day, Edward." She tries to hide a grin but I see it and I know there's hope.

The dogs are now pulling her against all her might as though they want to get her as far away from me as possible. I'm fairly sure she doesn't know what she's doing half the time, but she's amusing, to say the least.

And I have to say, I never knew humans could be so… content. They've always seemed like such depressed creatures to me - expecting everything, complaining when it's not handed to them on a silver platter. In hindsight, I think that perhaps that had something to do with the surroundings I was able to observe them in.

Being around the types of souls I've kept company with over the past millennia, you'd think I would be mostly attracted to the same sort above ground, but I find I rather enjoy Isabella's company whether in a dark, stuffy, crowded bar at night, or here, in the brightness of day, where I can appreciate the fullness of her innocence.

She's not something I've ever experienced before.

Now that I _am _experiencing it, I'm not sure if I'm willing to give her up just yet.

Or maybe at all.

I have six days until my brother will come find me.

Six days to come up with a way to avoid that happening.

* * *

**PSA: I get why some of you thought Poseidon might be Emmett but, nope. Hey, thanks go out to Sue, and to Chrisann, and to you for reading. I don't have a song for this one. Hashtag fail.**


	7. Chapter 7 Savior

**Chapter 07. Savior**

For three days I have managed to find the most nonchalant of ways to run into Isabella.

For three days, she has remained a conundrum.

She's shown no aversion to my presence in her life. In fact I don't frighten her at all now, when I show up at random places she visits throughout the day.

She seems to have accepted my insinuation into her life without much ado. However, she's also had a justification for rejecting every invitation I've extended to her in joining me for a more intimate setting.

It's as though I've entered what humans would call the friend zone.

Which is unacceptable and yet, I find myself taking whatever I can get from Isabella.

"That's the most disgusting thing I've seen in my entire existence."

Maybe not _the _most disgusting thing. But it's close.

She scoffs before taking a bite of the food truck sandwich she's ordered herself.

"Stop being so dramatic," she tells me. "You act like you've never had a grilled cheese before."

Not one single time.

And I never will.

"Of course I have, but that-"

"I realize your expectations of a meal are… _probably _pretty high up there, Edward, but in this part of town, these are considered a sacred commodity."

Blech.

Not happening.

"I could take you to an actual restaurant you know, one that's-"

"Nope. I have everything I need right here." She takes another bite as we walk and then holds it out toward me. "Wanna bite?"

"No way in the depths of Hell am I eating that."

"Edward…"

"I'd rather swim in the sea of lost souls for a thousand years, Isabella."

She giggles and continues her assault on the sandwich as she mumbles. "So weird."

"If you won't let me take you to a restaurant _now_, then let me take you later."

"Can't," she answers as she chews and although part of me realizes this should repel me, I find it endearing somehow. She resembles one of those animals from that far fetched cartoon long ago... what are they called?

Chipmunks!

"Why not?"

She shrugs.

_Now _she's speechless?

"Isabella?"

She shoves the entire remainder of the _grilled cheese _into her mouth and chews, looking quite desperate to not answer me.

She causes my patience to thin, this woman.

"M-be we can talk more later," she tells me with her mouth full of carbohydrates and dairy product. As she picks up her pace, I follow behind.

She steps into the street to cross over to the other side.

"I wouldn't consider running from me to be the most intellectual thing you've ever done."

She sniggers over her shoulder. "I'm not _running away._ I have to get back to work."

I check the watch I borrowed from the penthouse this morning.

"You have an entire half hour left, Isabella."

As she crosses the road, she has given no thought to any cars that might be coming. As one in particular is about to strike her down, I stop it with nothing but a flick of my wrist and an urgent thought.

Tires screech, the back-end lifts up off of the ground and the car in back of him swerves to miss a destructive collision.

Isabella is stunned into stillness.

"What the…"

The glare I shoot at the driver for being so careless with his angry words for the woman he nearly hit commits him to silence as well before he speeds off out again.

I guide Isabella to the sidewalk calmly. She's still staring off at where the car had been just moments ago.

"Did you _see _that?"

"What?" I have learned over the millennia, at times, it's best to play dumb. This is one of those times.

"That car was… and then… how did it stop on a dime like that?"

"I have no idea what you're referring to."

Isabella studies me for a bit, attempting to decipher if she believes me or her own experience. My expression does not waiver, save perhaps a raised eyebrow, waiting for her to realize what she saw and heard was simply the result of an overactive imagination.

Once she breathes a bit easier, and shrugs it off, I resume our conversation.

"You have nowhere left to run off to, Isabella. Perhaps you can answer my question now."

A slight blush rises to her cheeks.

"I can't quite figure you out, you know," she admits. And I wonder, if only momentarily, if she's speaking to me, Hades, or Edward Cullen, the vampire.

But if can't be me, can it? She hasn't the slightest idea who she's interacting with.

Which perhaps, is entirely her point.

"The best way to learn about someone is to spend time with them," I tell her quietly. I feel a small grin begin to escape. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with it yet. Smiling that is. But with Isabella here, I cannot seem to help myself.

She traps my stare in her own and smiles up at me. Then pushes up onto her tip toes and before I know what's happening, she places her lips against my cheek.

It burns. In both a good and bad way.

As she pulls away, I lean forward like a magnet to her but instead of feeling elated, fear grips me at the thoughts beginning to form deep inside me.

And now it's me who's become speechless.

The small kiss was meant as a thank you, perhaps. For the car? I suppose. Although, I'm certain she still doesn't quite understand what happened. But it could also be a goodbye I realize, as she starts to walk away from me, once again.

"Always walking away."

Control is lost on me as I catch her hand in mine and pull her back toward me.

As I try my best to quiet my heart rate, I direct my attention to the green of her irises.

"Come to the bar tonight," I request in a softer tone than my instincts would have liked. She narrows her eyes at me in contemplation but eventually…

"Okay," she barely whispers and before I even understand what is happening to me, she adds, "You really have the nicest smile, Edward."

There's a part of me. The true nature inside, that feels the warmth of what she's said and I have the most sensational sense of acceptance bubbling up within.

But the other part of me. The liar. Feels disgusted with myself as the name I've taken falls from her lips.

The urge to tell her who I am is right there, on the tip of my tangled tongue. But I cannot bring myself to say the words.

Instead, I let her fingers slip from mine as she finally goes with a friendly wave.

I'm satisfied at least, in that I will see her later.

Before that, however, perhaps I will visit the vampire to see what we can do about me being… me again.

It occurs to me that I'm still smiling as I stand there. My jaw aches from it, as a matter of fact. But I don't care. I'm too busy adoring in the creature who has invaded my mind so much lately.

When I can no longer see her, I finally take my leave and make my way down the street to my car in a much more buoyant mood than one might expect of me. I don't even mind that a very rude individual has apparently left a ticket of some sort on the windshield.

Nothing can break me right now. A hopefulness spreads inside of me and I realize just exactly what I've been missing out on for so long.

I suddenly regret not leaving the depths of the underworld before this.

I suddenly have an entirely new outlook on what I've been denied.

So when the ground beneath me rumbles a bit, I don't think much of it.

Or when the world around me begins to vibrate.

It's not until I feel the searing pain behind my ears that I'm aware of what's happening.

_Pound._

_Pound._

_Pound._

_Scrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeech._

Fucking. A.

He's early.

* * *

**PSA: Hi. Thanks for continuing to read. You are tremendous human beings for your support. Seriously. And thanks to my pre-reader savior, Chrisann. sunshine heart hands. Music this week is a throwback to the O.G. - Supermassive Black Hole by Muse.**


	8. Chapter 8 Boss

**Chapter 8. Boss**

"The seizures truly aren't necessary, you know," I tell my brother, who stands waiting for me inside the penthouse. His arms are crossed, his face frozen in a tundra of anger and resentment. I make my way to the bar. This is going to require alcohol.

"What was the last thing I said to you, Hades?"

I pour then swig the tequila I've gained a liking for and wait until the meager burning sensation can fully spread throughout my chest before answering him.

"I mean, obviously you know where I live. Do you always need to be so dramatic?"

His face remains stone-like. Clearly he's not here to socialize. Thank Satan.

I set the empty glass down and walk over to the couch. I can at least make myself comfortable if I'm going to be lectured.

"I'm not sure I follow what you're getting at, P."

"What I'm _getting _at, dear brother, is the girl."

Behind my mask of quiet restraint, my pulse quickens with panic. This family of mine has always been quite hypocritical when it comes to humans. Our involvement with them is usually frowned upon but ignored in most cases. In mine, of course, there's another set of expectations.

Animosity and indignation build within me. I've learned to keep an even expression over the centuries though.

"Girl?" I incline my head ever so slightly as though I don't have a fucking clue what he's referring to.

Poseidon studies me for a moment. My stare doesn't waver.

His eyes narrow. He hums.

I reassure him. "What's the point of taking a vacation, brother, if I can't have a little fun?"

"You expect me to buy that?"

I shrug. "Buy, sell, it makes no difference to me."

"You know how father feels about-"

"Oh for Satan's fucking sake." I need to quell this. Now. "If it's that much of a bother, I give you my word." I hold my hand up like a good boy scout. "No more _girls_."

Don't worry about the promise. Isabella is a woman, you see. There's always a loophole. I simply need to be more careful about how and where I interact with murky corners of a certain seedy bar in the shadows of the world, for instance. Most of my siblings dislike the shadowy spaces I usually inhabit. Poseiden is no different.

He thinks on what I've said for only another few moments and then appears to breathe a bit easier.

"Okay then. Now that that's settled." He pushes himself off of the armrest he's been sitting on. "Why don't you count all your winnings from the week and let's get out of here."

"I'm not ready yet. And I have two more days of freedom to enjoy."

"Hades," he says to me like I'm five, "What good could possibly come of another two days? You've had your fun, you need to get home."

"Is there a problem I'm not aware of?"

"You mean other than the creature you've banished to the Styx so you could have your fun?"

Oh.

I wave a hand. "He's fine."

"He's quiet. That does not mean the same thing as fine."

I wonder if he's imposed his will on someone else and I just don't know it yet.

"Did something happen?"

"No," he admits. "Why, did you expect something to happen?"

"No." Maybe. Hopefully not. "So you want me to leave this world immediately because you think he _might_ do something?"

"I'm simply saying he-"

"That's always been the problem with you," I blurt out at him, but quickly regain my composure. "_And_ father, _and _the rest of them. You make your decisions based on what _may _happen, not what actually _does _happen. It's all rooted in your own paranoia that people… humans are no better than you are."

"He's _not-_"

"He struggles though," I insist, unclear as to why I'm defending the thing.

"That doesn't-"

"Matter?" I laugh a resentful laugh. "It never does, does it?"

"Hades…"

"You can go now, P. I'll see you when I'm through here." Choice of words. Again, loopholes.

He doesn't seem as though he's going to, but my brother decides to leave after debating internally with himself. Without another word, he disappears. I'm left with my own thoughts, which are not very good ones, to be honest.

It's tempting to toss the vampire into Tartarus, I'll admit it. But it's not my place. Not yet, anyway. Not until I can have a heart to heart discussion with him. Just as I'm about to will myself to him, there's a knock at the door. I let out a moan of disgust and pinch at the bridge of my nose. "What now?"

Aside from becoming agitated at the interruption, I _am_ impressed my brother actually listened to what I had to say today and has decided not to simply show up as he desires.

"Forget something?" I ask as I pull the door open.

"Dude, where the fuck have you been all week?"

For the love of...

_Emmett_ barges in and heads straight for my kitchen. I'm fairly certain that's considered rude here.

"We have a situation at the Brick and Mortar," he proceeds to tell me as he rifles through my refrigerator.

I stare blankly, having zero concept of what in _Hell _he's talking about. When he stands and faces me, his mouth is full of meat and his hand is holding one of my beers. The meat is just for show. I could give a shit about the meat. My beer, however… I stare at the alcohol, then Emmett.

After he swallows down his snack, he holds the beer up.

"Got an opener?"

Without dropping my death gaze from his eyes, I open the drawer next to me, pull out the bottle opener and toss it to him.

He smiles, missing my ire entirely. "Thanks." He opens the bottle, tosses the opener onto the counter, then chugs the beer. "Damn," he sets the now empty bottle down next to the opener. "Your taste has changed, Ed. When did you get into Stellas?"

I ignore his question.

"What are you doing here?"

"I literally _just _told you. There's a situation at the-"

"Brick and Mortar, yes, I know, but…" ah, it just occurred to me what he's talking about.

The bar. "If there's a _situation _why aren't you there, _handling _it?"

This makes perfect sense to me.

Apparently not to the vampire. Perhaps they are slow creatures.

"Because you made it very clear when we opened this place that _I _handle the customers, and _you_ handle HR."

HR, HR…

"Human fucking resources what is wrong with you today?" he bellows when I don't respond.

Human resources would insinuate this is an employee problem. Tricky. But an easy fix.

"Well then, I hereby appoint you, in charge of HR." I grin, proud of myself. Then I grab my keys and start to go. "Lock up behind yourself."

"Dude. I don't have time for this shit, that's your department."

I stop, aggravated. "Isn't there anyone else that can-"

"_He's _the _situation, _Ed."

The way he says it hits a nerve for some reason. It appears from his tone that this _situation _has occurred previously. And now I'm curious to see what the fuss is about. So I concede to his demands.

"Then I suppose we better hurry."

* * *

**PSA: Big Hades sized thanks to Maria Hajile for always mentioning this story on FB. Thanks to Miss SueBeeBetaFairyAwesomeSauce for prettifying this chapter & Chrisann for assuring me life is short, write what I want. And thanks of course for reading - you lighten my heavy soul. Small FYI: when the next chapter gets uploaded fully depends on what Hurricane Dorian does to FL. Hoping everyone in the vicinity stays safe. I'm also hoping Hades will have a word with Zeus & Poseidon about it. Highly doubtful though.**


	9. Chapter 9 Divided

**Chapter 09. Divided**

"The fuck?"

No sooner do I step foot into the main bar area of Brick & Mortar when a blur of black whizzes by my head. Like a ninja star, only much larger. It takes my breath away as it misses slicing off my ear by mere millimeters.

_This is what happens when I let my defenses down._

I catch the next album that flies through the air, which is enough to put an abrupt end to the DJ's apparent temper tantrum. For the time being.

I was given the short version of what is bothering this third vampire, who apparently goes by the name _Jasper, _on the way over. I have to say, these beings seem to be quite juvenile in their reactions to the day-to-day boredom that is their lives.

How many of them _are _there, anyway?

He matches my glare for a moment, before tossing the next one onto the ground in front of him, and stomping it to death with his boot.

"You'll be cleaning up after yourself, I assume."

He doesn't respond.

I check the timepiece on my wrist. Less than an hour to opening.

I eye Emmett for some direction. He jerks his head in the direction of our counterpart, silently urging me to approach him. I don't want to. I'd much rather take the time I have before Isabella arrives to visit the vampire I have in the Styx. As it is, I cannot just yet.

_The quicker this is over, the quicker I can take a trip._

A few hesitant strides toward Jasper, and surprisingly I feel… compassion for him. It's as though there are years and years of memories between us, both happy and, like this one, depressing.

But that's not the case.

As Jasper inspects, and then picks up another vinyl record, I gently take it from him and set it back down with the rest of his collection.

"Is this truly necessary?"

He huffs and shakes his head a bit. "Somethin's off."

I narrow my focus in on him but sense nothing. "What do you mean?"

This is when he throws his hands in the air, frustrated. "Well I don't know, Edward. If I knew, I wouldn't be so upset about it, now would I? But bein' as it is, I don't, so I am."

W...what is he talking about?

Seriously.

"Okay." I think for a moment. Minimally, I must get him to relax so I can get on with my original plan. Walking away and letting him demolish the bar before Isabella gets here would be irresponsible of me. It would also make a bad impression.

"What can I do to help you understand what's... _off_."

He waves a hand at the music laid out in front of him. "I can't pick shit today. ALICE is acting moody." He waves another hand. "And I don't know how the _hell _to get her back to normal." He shrugs and swings his arms once more. "I've been working on her all morning, but she's just not herself. And I feel like some cosmic bullshit is fuckin' with my musical inclinations, ya know what I mean?"

Not even the slightest.

I nod anyway. "Mmm Hmmm. And Alice is…?"

"Seriously?" he scowls and waves a hand at the turntable beside us. I'm still a bit baffled, though.

"Astonishing Lyrical Intelligence Combining Equipment?" he spouts out. It takes me a few moments to realize what he's done here.

"Wow," I say, because really, what else _is _there to say to a musically frustrated vampire?

"We named her two weeks ago when I got her, dude. What's the matter with you?"

"No, I mean, I just… forgot how absolutely fantastic that name was."

Did I pull that off?

Was I convincing enough?

Doubtful. He doesn't appear to notice though.

"Right? But now suddenly she's not working for me. No matter what kind of mixes I put together, it's not coming out right, and I don't know-"

"Jasper." I put an arm on his shoulder. It's mostly because I just really want him to stop talking about this machine as though she's his girlfriend.

"_You_ control the emotions of this bar at any given moment. Every piece of music you play, the tone you play it in, the lights you play them under… it's all up to _you_."

His head hangs a bit as he thinks my words over.

I continue. "Now, ALICE maybe be the _tool _you use to see these things happen inside your mind, but-" I turn him toward me so he's looking at me now. "_You_ are in control."

He nods in understanding.

"The people get a little rowdy, calm them down. If they aren't drinking enough, encourage excitement within them."

His expression changes and I feel he is finally coming out of the frustration he's been experiencing today. That's good because, aside from putting him out of his misery altogether, I am unsure of how to go forward with this conversation if he hadn't.

"Thanks Edward." He throws his arms around me in a tight hug that I was not expecting, nor wanting. I tense up a bit until I realize he's not letting go until I respond in a likewise fashion. So I wrap my arms around him and pat him on the back like a good vampire would.

It's awkward, and I don't know how to interpret the satisfaction I feel at this particular moment, but I'll deal with that later.

Off Jasper goes and I'm left standing here, bewildered by the ways of vampires and how my understanding of them has apparently been completely off for the past millennia. I don't know how long I'm fixed in this spot before I hear a slight snigger beside me.

_Emmett._

"What?" I ask him, agitated with his never ending amusement with just about everything.

"You still got it, Ed." He shoves me in the shoulder. "Good job, buddy." Then he walks off to begin his evening of coercing humans into behaving.

I stay put for a while, watching additional employees enter, delivery people exit, and I let out a sigh of… what is this? Exhaustion? Contentment? A combination of both?

I witness Jasper, tinkering with his _ALICE_ and almost laugh at how insane it is that he gives a single care about what the humans think of his music choices.

It's ridiculous.

_Speaking of..._

A chill runs down my spine and I become acutely aware that she's here.

Finally.

_Isabella._

I scan the increasingly crowded area and notice a cluster of early birds arriving to claim their stool at the bar.

I breathe out in quiet delight. Although my plans to visit a certain vampire were disrupted today, and I was forced to spend an entire car ride listening to Emmett yammer on about Jasper and the fuss he was making, and then proceed to calm the increasingly outrageous emotions of that vampire…

She's here.

"Hello." I'm next to her within seconds. Like a bee to honey. When she sees me, she smiles.

_The sun._

My cheek warms as I remember her lips against it earlier, and I want more of that pleasure immediately upon her first words.

"Hi. I know I'm early…"

I slowly peek behind her. "Are you, babysitting handbags this evening? Hounds, perhaps?"

She giggles and it quickens the blood rushing through my veins. "No, I didn't invite anyone along. I did mention where I was going tonight and my roommate said she might swing by, so..."

I pay no attention to what she's speaking about. I'm distracted that, once again, she's back to dressing in baggy jeans and long sleeved hoodies.

I pull at her sleeve. "Why do you dress like this when you come here?" It's in the low eighties outside, even at nighttime.

"Because, it's _freezing _in here." She pushes her hands into her hoodie's pockets and hunches her shoulders. "You all keep the temps so low my _bones _ache."

I hadn't noticed to be honest. Now that I do, I wonder if she's sensitive to temperatures or something of the like because I'm wholly comfortable, myself. Warm, I might even say, as the space between us grows smaller and smaller.

"I'm sure I can have someone turn the thermostat up for you if you'd like," I tell her as more people begin to pile into the bar.

She shakes her head. "I'm fine. I'll warm up in a little while once I start moving around."

Her voice is quiet. Apprehensive, perhaps. Something feels different between us this evening.

The dynamic has changed since our lunch meeting.

Since the kiss she placed against my cheek.

Isabella seems slightly more at ease with me than before, if I'm not mistaken, based on the intimacy of our proximity and the fact that she doesn't move away. As I contemplate just exactly how this may have happened, she looks up at me as though she's debating telling me something.

"Isabella?"

"Edward, it's not easy for me to trust people." She purses her lips a bit before continuing. "Especially people I hear so many rumors about…"

"I told you before, I-"

"I know," she interrupts me. "That's what I'm getting at. See, I think… I mean… I _feel_ like people have you all wrong. I think maybe…"

An overgrown, obnoxious individual bumps into me as he passes by with a group of patrons. He knocks me straight into Isabella, who is now so close that our bodies are pressed against each, causing an eruption of emotions to run through me.

I've never been one to have _many _feelings at all running through me at any given time. It's a bit overwhelming to have so many arising at once, to be honest. And I suspect Isabella somehow planted them all there with the chill she sends down my spine, her smile, her giggles… _her lips_.

"You really are quite cold, aren't you?" I ask, as our hands touch. Her fingers are like icicles against mine. Despite the rapidly growing discord growing around us, I hear nothing, feel nothing, but the sound of Isabella's heartbeat against me.

"Yeah." She laughs nervously. Crimson is rising to her cheeks despite the chill she says she feels.

There is a desire inside me that surpasses the one I felt earlier. I find myself gently cupping her face in my hands, searching for an answer as to why she is able to do this to me. There is none.

"I can't explain it, Isabella, but it appears I'm unable to refrain from wanting you in a way I don't fully understand."

I lean in a bit but hesitate, unsure of what's to come next. I'm frightened, almost, which is unnerving to say the least.

"And I can't explain why it's becoming more and more difficult to try and discourage you from it," she confesses. Her voice is unsure. Her eyes, though, not so much.

There is a mere infinitesimal moment that passes where I question whether I should be doing this, here, so publicly. Then I realize I no longer care. I simply want to feel her lips against mine. The consequences of doing so are irrelevant. The pull of her kiss is like a magnet; slowly, painstakingly calling me whenever she is close.

Currently, that call is screaming inside my mind.

Without giving much thought as to whether I even know what I'm doing, I begin to lower my mouth to hers.

She doesn't pull away from me. Doesn't flinch. She simply holds my stare and waits as I follow through on impulses I've had since the moment we met.

As my lips meet hers and my eyes close, a current of desire I hadn't thought existed before surges to the forefront of my existence.

A crushing wave of need rolls throughout my soul.

A warmth I cannot define.

An ache that doesn't quite hurt but isn't pleasant either.

And the want. The want for this creature I've crossed paths with is overwhelming.

And then, very suddenly and unexpectedly, those wants change.

I don't know what happens to me. One moment, I'm pulling at the fabric of her shirt for better access to any other part of her. The next I'm taking in her scent and wanting to sink my teeth into her soft, tempting flesh.

The thought spooks me and I'm taken aback immediately. My entire body tenses and she, of course, notices.

"What's wrong?" she asks me, breathless and eager to continue.

I'm not sure I won't hurt her now.

I force my breathing to slow.

"I'm…"

"Edward?"

And that name. That _fucking _name.

It's him, I realize. He's _willing _me to the brink of blood lust.

How? How is he doing this? He sent a simple idea, and I nearly followed through on it.

I stare down at Isabella, fighting against something I cannot begin to disclose to her. Yet there she is, waiting for an answer that I don't have.

* * *

**PSA: Not much of a PSA this week but... much love & thanks for reading. Until next time...**


	10. Chapter 10 Mistaken

**Chapter 10. Mistaken**

"It's me." Isabella breathes out as though she's practically relieved. "I totally misunderstood your intentions, didn't I? Oh my god, I'm such an idiot." She begins to gather her wits and plans to leave me. Again. But I'm not allowing that to happen. Not this time. I don't care what plans the vampire may have. I'm ten times the god he thinks he is.

"Isabella." My hands fly to her hips and I stop her. Without much internal debate, I slide an arm around her waist and pull her so close I nearly kiss her again. "It's not you."

Her brows furrow with worry. "Then I don't think I understand. Are you seeing someone?" She takes a beat. "Did I make you cross a line? I'm a _terrible _person. I am so, so-"

"Don't say it," I warn her. Anger at the vision she holds of herself bubbles up inside of me. I suppose the turmoil I'm dealing with wouldn't be so obvious to a human who's never had to deal with gods and vampires before. Why _should _she think anything different? Nevertheless, I must find a way to improve her beliefs.

"I'm seeing no one but the woman I currently hold in my grasp." I lessen my grip on her and take a tentative step away, giving her some breathing room. She'll need me to offer her a better reason than blood lust for the conflicting signals I tend to give her. "It simply struck me quite suddenly, that here - in the middle of this very public bar, as people are beginning to pile in - probably wouldn't be the best place for me to proclaim how I feel about you."

_How I feel about her._

Even if I understood those feelings myself, how can I describe them to her?

"How you… um…" She tucks some hair behind her ear and avoids eye contact. "How _do you_ feel about me?" She almost appears as though she doesn't want to know.

I feel a half grin tugging at the sides of my mouth.

"You weren't listening, Isabella." I tip her chin up so she's looking at me again. "This…" I spread my hands and look around us. "Is not the place."

Or the time.

Or the person.

_Or vampire_.

"Why don't you get yourself something to drink," I urge. I need a moment, if I'm being honest.. "I have to check in with the staff to make sure everything is good to go for the evening."

She debates internally but then decides to take me up on the suggestion and gives me a smile and a nod. As she leaves me standing there, I feel the energy it's taking to keep up my facade. I lean against a pole to mull over how I should, or should not continue with Isabella.

In as many eons as I have existed, not one god, much less human, has ever taken my breath away. Admittedly, that's not easy for me to say as someone who isn't quite used to having a breath in the first place.

Regardless…

To be so humanly affected by such a simple thing as a kiss is perplexing, to say the least. Aside from making me feel as though I'd like to drain her life force, having Isabella's lips against mine has me confused in ways I never thought imaginable. Images of lives I've never lived flash inside my mind. Urges to corrupt her in every way invade my thinking. My body aches in ways I never thought possible. And yet...

"Thought you said it wasn't the right time."

Emmett is suddenly leaning beside me, like a mirror image of myself, watching Isabella make her way toward the bar. Somehow, he hasn't taken me by surprise this time. I know what he's referring to. And I correct him.

"I said it wasn't the right time to _murder _her." Which it still isn't, despite the growing need that I feel to make exactly that happen. I realize that I never exactly said the word _murder_. It might have been insinuated.

It was definitely insinuated.

Surely he knows this. He's the one that set it up. He said so himself.

Now I'm questioning everything because Emmett, in response to my declaration, laughs out a booming, intimidating laugh. Quite frankly, I'm surprised it hasn't garnered the attention of every human here tonight.

"Well of course the fuck not, idiot. Why would you even say that?"

I turn to him, confounded even more than before. "Because you said-"

"I said I _found _her for you, dumbass. Why the hell would I want you to murder her?"

I'm dumbstruck. Absolutely. Completely. Dumbstruck. What exactly was I supposed to do with her, as a vampire, if not kill her?

"_Found_ her?" I repeat it just to make sure I'm not misunderstanding some sort of vampire sarcasm here.

He chuckles and his entire body shakes when he does it.

Completely agitating.

"You've been a miserable shit for months. What was I supposed to do?"

I'm not going to argue his use of the word miserable. I can absolutely identify with that condition. "I'm confused."

Emmett turns to me. "Did you or did you not tell me you were lonely?"

My expression clearly demonstrates my absolutely sense of loss in this conversation.

"I mean, yeah, you were dead ass drunk when you said it, but still..."

"Lonely."

He nods toward my date at the bar. "When I saw her come in that night, something just told me she's what you need. I watched her for hours before I called you."

"But not to drink her blood," I clarify.

"Dude." Emmett back hands me against the chest and peers around us to make sure no one heard me. Then he leans in a bit and lowers his voice. "We haven't had human blood in decades, why would you even say that?"

Decades?

"But the blood lust."

"There's always gonna be blood lust, Ed. You know that." He shoves me in the arm like he did earlier. The instinctive urge to shove him, much harder, lessens as I remind myself of who he is and who I am supposed to be.

"What would you have me do with her then, Emmett? Keep her as a pet?"

His laughter is absolutely annoying the living shit out of me. I'm surprised it's not causing pain to those closest to us.

"For a 'hundred and seven year old vampire, you sure as _fuck _know how to act like the virgin sometimes, Ed."

And now I'm seething with irritation. He's truly not helping me understand. At all. "That doesn't answer my question."

"Have some fun. For once in your life. Have some fucking fun."

I stare over at Isabella and think about the things Emmett must mean by "fun".

"Jesus," he mutters under his breath. "You do this shit all the time. You cut yourself off from the world in torment and guilt, depriving yourself of … whatever. But you can only do that for so long before the urge gets to you. Then you get depressed because lord knows Edward _fucking _Cullen can't bring himself to hurt a human, even if they _want _you to… and then things turn dark. With the lurking, and the _brooding_, and…"

"Getting drunk."

"Y-yep." He breathes out long and heavy. "I never thought _kissing_ would even be on the table, though, honestly. How are you doing that by the way?"

"Doing what?"

"Making out with the cutie over there without tearing her throat out in front of hundreds of people."

The need to hide all of the urges I've been quarreling with arises and I make as though the moment wasn't quite as important as it actually was. "Our lips barely touched."

His body convulses from silent laughter and I feel heat rising to my cheeks.

"Ohhhh...kay," he says with a slight tone of sarcastic defeat in his voice. Then, after a longer pause, he grows a bit more serious. "How long have we been doing this?"

"Doing what?" I wish I could weed my way through his mind and extract the answers to all of my questions.

He sniggers. "Still playing dumb with me?"

Common sense kicks in, and I somehow generally understand what he's referring to. I'm unsure, though, if he means living amongst humans or protecting them from ourselves.

"A long time." I go with a broad answer.

"I'm tired, man."

I nod. I've only been doing this for five days, and I'm fucking exhausted. How do I ask him if I've ever fallen for a human before? Is that why I avoid them now? Why is Isabella affecting me this way and does he have the same issues? Does Jasper? Is that why he engrosses himself with electronic equipment instead of an actual mate?

As Isabella waves across the room at me as though she's attempting to conduct sign language of some sort, I find myself grinning at her ridiculousness. And I simply know the answer to my own question.

She is not like any other human.

"She's a trip," Emmett tells me as he pushes off of our beam. "She's gotta be if she's got you all twisted up like this."

There is no need to inquire about his meaning of "twisted up". I know. I've felt it since my first night above ground. I feel it more and more with each passing day, especially when she looks at me with such curiosity. I'll never be able to satisfy it, however. Not really.

Emmett has simply confirmed what I already knew to be true.

"Emmett?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you recall anything about my _dungeon_?"

He barks out another huge laugh. "You? A dungeon? Good one…"

He stands to attention and salutes me. "Cell master at your service." He laughs again but rolls his eyes. "Dude, seriously, this has been one of the best talks in weeks, but I gotta get back to work." He shoves a fist into the center of my chest. "Later." He disappears into the crowd of people and I am left wondering exactly what sort of creature have I banished to my domain?

I scan the humans here tonight. Why does he do this? Why put himself into a situation he knows will be tempting?

I focus back on Isabella, who is ordering a drink.. When she looks my way to see if I would like one, I walk over to join her at the bar. Being that I own this establishment, the woman taking orders sees me and immediately begins to pour my drink of choice.

"Two," I tell her. Although Isabella starts to refuse, I give her a look that says there is no objecting to a shot of the best made tequila on the planet. My mind searches for reasons to end the night early and let Isabella be on her way.

She doesn't deserve the dark influences of a vampire. _Or _the god of the underworld for that matter.

On the other hand…

Being so close to her again immediately reminds me of why I wanted to see more of her in the first place. No, instead of following any sort of path of righteousness, I decide then and there, I'm a selfish creature. No better than my brother.

"Let's find a quieter spot, shall we?" I suggest as I take the shot glasses in hand and nod to the bartender. She understands my unspoken instructions and slides the bottle across to me. I hook my finger around the neck to bring that along as well.

It's going to be a long night.

* * *

**PSA: Queue the music: Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down. Many thanks to the usual suspects this week. Sue, Chrisann, readers, reviewers. Hades also sends his very conflicted regards. Big love... moi.**


	11. Chapter 11 Seducer

**Chapter 11. Seducer**

Muffled music from Jasper's ALICE floats through the walls of my office and fills the silence between Isabella and me. I've chosen a safe spot roughly twelve feet or so away from her to put a little distance between us for now. No need to tempt fate. Thinking back on it, sitting behind my desk might have been more comfortable, but also felt slightly too formal. So here I sit on the edge of my desk, legs dangling beneath me, hands at my sides, practically glaring at the girl in the comfy chair on the other side of the room.

As I struggle between the desire to cross the distance to take her in my arms and the need to protect her from the dangers a vampire's bite could cause, she toys with the second shot of tequila I've poured for her. Her finger plays at the ridge of her glass, and she stares at the liquid as though she's having a mindful discussion with it.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh." She sets the glass down onto the table next to her and sits up a bit straighter. "I'm just not a big tequila girl," she explains, two-thirds amused, one-third bashful. "I mean, I was, once, in college, but I don't remember much about it. From what I understand, I don't want to, so I figure I'm better off not being that girl again. Ever." She reaches over and slides the glass further away from her.

Meanwhile, I take my own drink and swallow it whole. Then I pour another and gulp that down as well. For good measure. And since I seem to be feeling the effects a bit easier this evening.

Thank Satan.

There are several layers to the emotions she brings out in me. Alcohol may be the only way to sort through them.

"Did you bring me back here to drink?" she asks. "Or…" she hesitates and then narrows her eyes. "Are you sure I didn't upset you out there, Edward? You seem…"

"Rude," I finish for her. "And I apologize for my abrupt behavior before. I'm not quite used to-"

"PDA," she says, nodding.

"I'm sorry?"

"Public displays of affection." She shrugs. "I get it. You're a private guy. It's not like I didn't know that." She appears to have had her feelings hurt. If she only knew how close she had come to ceasing to exist.

"Yes, well, we aren't very public anymore, are we?" I'm not entirely sure if I'm saying it for her sake, or my own. A reminder, perhaps, to be wary of inadvertent impulses and not to follow through on them.

Bringing her back here might not have been such a good idea.

Suddenly, Isabella decides that she's a tequila girl after all. She takes the shot and places the glass down as she holds the liquid in her mouth for a moment, which she then swallows with a painful grimace. After that, she stands carefully before making her way over to me.

"So, you're not married." Her steps are slow. Painstakingly slow.

_Bad idea, Isabella._

"And you don't have a girlfriend."

I'm on high alert now, and my body tenses as she draws closer. I shake my head without a word.

"Annnd, you aren't repulsed by me."

The beginning of a smile tugs at the sides of my mouth "No."

She's close now. Too close. And yet, not close enough.

I struggle to regulate my breathing.

"You know that old saying, actions speak louder than words?" Her voice is quiet and the way she takes her bottom lip between her teeth makes me want to take actions she won't question under any circumstances.

"I know it."

"You're a walking, talking contradiction, Edward."

"I assure you, I don't mean to be."

"Then-"

"That's close enough." I sit up and raise a hand in weak defiance. The truth is, Isabella has captured me in her orbit, and I'm here to stay.

"What is it about you that makes me want to lower every wall I've built over the past few years?" She stops just in front of me and looks up into my eyes with a naive longing for me to give her all the answers she's looking for.

I shake my head again, but I haven't found the proper words just yet. It doesn't help that she has terrible listening skills.

Her hands slide to my sides and rest on my hips.

My jaw clenches with tension.

"Talk to me," she insists. But what do I say?

My eyes fall to the floor as a familiar question floats inside my mind, and I remember my reply. _I am Hades. Ruler of the Underworld... deceiver of souls... don't listen to the rumors. _I let out a small sigh of defeat as I meet her gaze again.

"I'd much rather kiss you again." I let the alternate honest confession pour from my lips instead of blurting out my true identity.

She smiles, and in that moment, the way she silently acquiesces my request, I believe I could tell her everything she wants to know. It does not escape me that I shouldn't be doing this. Not to her.

_But I'll be in Hell again someday, anyway. And there are worse ways to go than enjoying the taste of Isabella on my lips._

_You will not hurt this girl, _I remind myself.

Gently, she presses forward and places her lips against mine. As our mouths meet, my eyes close.

_So far, so good._

_Very good, as a matter of fact._

The warm sensation of sunlight flows through me. My body softens and my hands thoughtlessly slip themselves around her, pulling her further into me out of sheer need to have her closer. Deliberately and meticulously, I stay in control of myself.

Everything about her is soft and warm - inviting, trusting, tearing at my will. And as she tells me everything I need to know about what she is thinking with just that kiss, I feel the familiar urge to sink my teeth into her begin to form.

_You will not hurt her,_ I tell myself again.

Her mouth parts and our tongues meet. The sweet, smooth taste of tequila lingers. Her hands drift. She slides them up the side of my torso, leaving a trail of goose flesh in her wake. As they settle around my neck, she deepens our connection.

I place a hand on each side of her with the intention of putting a stop to this before we go too far, only to find myself slipping off of the desk, spinning her around, and lifting her to take my place.

My breathing quickens, and Isabella doesn't help matters much by wrapping her legs around me to keep me from running away.

Which is exactly what I should do.

Only I don't want to.

I break our kiss only to move my mouth to her jaw, then her neck.

She lets out a slight, raspy moan that sends every sense I have into overdrive.

I breathe her in. Her heartbeat thumps, louder and louder. I feel the strong urge to taste her blood on my lips and I want to resist, really, I do, but…

"Bella." I hear the name drift away from my lips in a hungry, desperate plea, only, it's wrong. It's not the name I would call her. Nor is it what she's expecting to hear. It's enough to form the smallest of cracks in the impulse I'm having to bite down.

She pulls away, only slightly, so she can look me in the eyes with the perplexity she must be experiencing right now.

I feel it too. I have to explain. I have to tell her why I have a tendency to act completely and utterly bi-polar with her.

"I'm-"

"Excuse me! Get your hands off me, dude!"

Isabella and I are both stopped short of a confession that might very well be the end of my stint here above ground when we hear a rather loud commotion outside the office. Whatever was about to be said is silenced as Isabella turns to look over at the door and a deep scowl forms.

"Rose?" she questions the door.

Before I can ask her who this Rose is, Isabella is pushing me off of her and heading for the door.

"I said get your _fucking _hands off me before I deck your ass right here, _right _now, pal."

"And I said you can't go back-"

Isabella pulls the door open, disrupting an argument between Emmett and…

"Rose!" She laughs when she sees a woman getting ready to punch my bouncer. When the woman sees Isabella, she smiles and becomes an entirely different person.

"HEY, there you are. I've been looking all over this dump for you." She wraps her arms around my date, and when she sees me, she gives me a highly judgmental nod.

"Hey."

Not that I can blame her.

My heart is still racing from the blood lust I've only just escaped. I have no words and struggle with the resentment I'm feeling toward the blonde.

"I completely let time get away from me and totally forgot you might swing by. I'm so sorry."

Isabella is always explaining herself to people. And apologizing. It's incredibly annoying.

"No problemo," the tall woman tells her, still eyeing me carefully.

"Oh." She seems to notice the tone in her friends voice and pulls away from the hug slash love fest. "Rose, this is Edward. Edward, this is Rose. She's my roommate"

"Sorry boss, I tried to stop her from wandering around the building, _unsupervised_." Emmett's voice gets louder as he finishes his sentence, and I cannot help but feel as though there's some sort of tension between the two of them.

"You're a fucking bully, that's what you are," Rose says and points at him, reacting to his accusatory volume.

"And you're a-"

"Okay," I interrupt him from saying something that might actually get him decked with a clap of my hands and a peace offering of sorts. "How about a drink to celebrate the coming together of new friends, then."

I push past them and head for the bar, half wanting to put some distance between Isabella and myself, half wanting to interrupt the toxicity between Emmett and Rose. Finding myself in the midst of so much drama after, literally, eons of just… _nothing_, is…fucking exhausting. A drink is definitely in order.

As I arrive at the bar, the bartender raises an eyebrow at my expression, but I shake my head and ask her to get me a bottle of our finest champagne.

"Four glasses," I tell her, and she pours them with a quick ease that makes me think she's been doing this for a very long time. I appreciate the fact that I am apparently very smart in my hiring decisions, and I take the glasses then pass them out to my guests.

"A toast, to…" Oh, hell. "Something." I drink and nearly choke on the liquid when I see a familiar face enter the building.

"You okay, buddy?" Emmett asks, and I duck behind a pole to avoid being seen right away.

I mean why in Hell is Poseidon here? Harassing me. Again. Has he not had enough for one day? One _week _for that matter?

"Persistent little shit," I mutter, and Isabella is now wondering who I'm referring to.

"What's-"

I spin her around and search for a reason to leave.

Hoping she doesn't notice the desperation in my expression, I make an attempt at a smile for her. "Why don't you and Rose go request something from Jasper."

"Okay." She happily bounces away with her friend. Luckily, it doesn't appear that my brother has noticed me yet. I cannot have him catching even a glimpse of Isabella, or worse, suspecting that I might be fond of her in any way.

"What's wrong?" Emmett asks with a look of concern.

I ignore the question. There's no explicable way to answer him at this point.

"Would you do me the honor of a favor?"

"The honor?" The overgrown guardian of this bar chuckles. "You know you're fucking weird, lately, right?"

"Emmett," I push. His face grows serious, and he clears his throat.

"Whatever you need."

"See the large" - Holy Satan. What do I say here? God? Celestial being? _Dick?_ \- "_man _over there in the corner by the entrance?"

Emmett peers over at where I'm nodding toward. "Yep."

"Distract him."

He grins mischievously. "Not a problem." His eagerness to have something a bit more interesting to do this evening is oddly satisfying to me.

"What seems to be the problem?" Rose asks with a sing songy sass I gather is not abnormal for her. Apparently, she left her jacket on a stool nearby and came back to retrieve it.

I open my mouth to say something but close it again when I realize I have no reply for her. Fortunately, Emmett does.

"Bar business, nothing you need to worry about," he tells the woman, slightly condescendingly, I have to admit. She, in turn, shifts to one foot, places a hand on her hip and narrows her dark brown eyes at him.

"I'm not an idiot, asshole. I saw how he" - she points to me in case it's unclear - "acted when the big guy came in. And how he immediately tried to get rid of Bella and me when it happened. So don't play shady trickster with me."

Emmett's mouth closes up tight as well. The two of us stand there, not having a clue how to deal with this new to us person in Isabella's life. She sets her jacket back on the stool when she realizes that we are just a couple of speechless baboons who haven't quite thought through how to pull one over on her.

She pushes her sleeves up and tells us matter of factly, "Screw it. If it entails protecting Bella in some way shape or form, I'm in."

It's all I need to know about her and how she must feel about the woman I've grown so very fond of. Once I see Isabella returning from Jasper's corner, I scan the room for alternate exits from where Poseidon is standing. I have no doubt in my mind that I could take him if need be. He's larger, however, I'm smarter. But that's not the point here.

"Take a ride with me?" I ask Isabella calmly, even as my blood pressure rises.

She huffs out a rather flustered laugh and hooks a thumb over her shoulder. "I just requested Prince, why-"

"I have the strangest urge for fresh air and the night sky," I tell her with only the slightest hint of urgency in my tone.

"But Rose just got here," she insists.

"I'm gonna hang with the dumbass for a little while," Rose tells her roommate, nodding toward Emmett. He appears quite offended yet suspiciously happy with the situation.

"Um," Isabella replies. She's disappointed but is willing to leave with me, nonetheless. "Okay."

I begin to guide her toward the back hallway when Emmett stops me with an easy grip on my forearm.

"Hey." He leans close to whisper. "Since when do you back down from confrontation?"

He's genuinely curious. And worried, according to his facial expression.

I don't have time to think up a reason that will make sense. It grows more and more tiresome to keep up with the facade I've created. I find myself telling him, "A conversation for another time."

And I fear he's going to hold me to it.

* * *

**PSA: So... I'm trying to remain cool and calm but I am totally not. I'm beside myself. So is Hades (don't tell him I said that) - because a very good fandombestfriendwhomakesmesmilesohard has agreed to write a companion story to Hades beginning TODAY - (are you even ready for this?) Please go check out Belladonna Cullen's "Friend of the Devil" - she's in Bella's head and does it with the style and grace that only she could. It's favorited in my profile OR you can just go click on her name from my favorite authors list. But do it. You'll LOVE her side of the story.**

**I would also like to throw a(nother) super smiley blackened heart THANK YOU to Rita01 for the fantasmic banner she made for Hades this week. Have you seen it? You can check it out in full size on the blog if you feel the urge.**

**Whew, I'm feeling a little too wordy right now so I'll just end with thank you again so much for reading this guy. Thanks Sue, thanks Chrisann!**

**Song = Do I wanna know by Arctic Monkeys**


	12. Chapter 12 Eluder

**Chapter 12. Eluder**

I feel as though my decision to leave Emmett in charge of dealing with Poseidon may have been a bit rash.

His vampire strength is no match for my brother. He has no idea what Poseidon is, only that he is an obstacle I need disposing of. Who knows what he'll attempt in order to make that happen.

_Perhaps it didn't come to that._

I shake my head and focus on the road before me in an attempt to rid my mind of the concern.

Why do I care?

Why?

It bothers me to no end.

Like a gnat, tirelessly buzzing around my head.

These human type feelings continue to grow, the longer I'm here. If only I could shake them off with a brush of my hand, this trip above ground would be much less complicated.

Something I will deal with later, perhaps.

For now, the only thing that matters is that Isabella is off Poseidon's radar. Out of his grasp. Away from his fury. Who knows what he may have done had he thought for a second that she was of any importance to me. What he will do, if he ever learns of her.

The mere thought of it sends a slight wave of panic through me.

Regardless...

With the task of evading my brother accomplished, the vampire's intentions toward Isabella are what clutter my thoughts. Were my original instincts correct? Would he indeed have killed her the night we met? Or rather, would he have fallen for her forthrightness wrapped in beauty the way I have? Was she meant for him? Or did I save her from a fate unfair to the likes of her innocence?

For the first time in thousands of decades, I find I am second guessing myself more than I'd like.

And I am not a fan of it.

"You're awfully quiet," Isabella announces from the passenger seat. I've been driving for quite some time, leaving the city far behind. The dark, silent night has given me an unexpected, soothing comfort. She's been silent for most of this particular leg of the drive. Perhaps caught up in her own thoughts.

When I don't respond right away, she adds, "We didn't have to leave."

"Yes, we did." She has no idea the dangers that lurk just beyond the shadows of her world.

"I mean, Rose just got there, and she was meeting me. I feel bad."

"She's with Emmett," I assure her. "She won't be bored. Don't worry about Rose." Or Emmett. Hopefully.

I grip the steering wheel tightly. It's most likely a good thing she's not aware of the threat we escaped back at the bar. I may have survived with a few scrapes, but her… Her life may have ended before it's even had a chance to begin.

Then I would have had to murder my brother.

And then I would have had to answer to my father.

Or find a way to murder my father.

There'd be a whole thing, believe me.

"Well, I still feel bad." She shrugs. "Where are we going anyway?"

I have no idea where we're going. I know wherever it is, I want her to be with me.

"Spend the weekend with me." The words don't sound like my own even as I say them. I am well aware they are coming out of my own mouth, but I've never felt so desperate for the attention of a human before.

Ever, really.

Having it so profoundly in the forefront of my mind wears on me, constantly. It seems to wear on her as well.

"I-"

She doesn't finish her thought. Most likely because she is still debating my intentions.

"No expectations, Isabella," I promise, understanding where her thoughts must have gone. "I simply want to spend time with you away from prying eyes and curious ears." All this is true, but she still appears apprehensive. I reach across the small distance between us and take her hand in mine. For the hundredth time in just a few days, I feel the weight of her extremely fragile humanity.

"I hope you know that everything you've ever heard about me is a facade. Smoke and mirrors. There is no one on this earth to truly know me, Isabella. Not even Emmett. And that's as close as it gets, don't you think?"

She searches outside the car for an answer. "Yeah, I mean, I suppose I already knew that."

"Then what troubles you?"

She hunches her shoulders. "I don't know. Nobody really knows me either, Edward. I guess I'm not sure know how I feel about you being the first."

Honesty. It's like breathing for her. Easy. Thoughtless. It's both refreshing and agonizing. But how can I blame her for being conflicted? It's as though her subconscious is telling her, run!

"Well if I may, I-"

"And lest we forget, I do have responsibilities?" She cuts me off as though she's attempting to keep me from influencing her choices.

I let out a small, amused chuckle. Mainly because I am the king of manipulation. "Are we referring to your friends' handbags or the few hounds you also seem to call friends?"

She rolls her eyes but in a playful sort of way. "I have other obligations too, you know."

"Such as?" This, I simply must hear. And at my urging, she begins prattling off miscellaneous duties she performs throughout the week.

"Like, grocery shopping for people who can't, and once a week I teach art at the youth center. I also have a few-"

"Very admirable things to do for the needy." I'm beginning to paint a mental picture of her shrouded in angelic garments, a halo above her head. All the things humans do in hopes they will get them into the right places after they're gone.

"It's good for me too," she advises, quietly adamant… it breaks my train of thought.

"Why is that?" She constantly has me curious as to her motivations with this life.

"It reminds me that not everyone has what I have."

"Which is?"

"A decent life, for one. Money of my own, a place to call home, two working legs, the ability to drive, friends, fam-"

"Let me stop you, right there." We don't need to get into a debate over whether having family is a pro or con in this situation.

"What? Why?"

"I get it." I note I may have come across a bit harsh in my response when Isabella shrinks slightly into her seat. I don't want to appear this contemptuous for life in general. I simply don't understand how she can be so damned grateful for it when, ultimately, there is no point. All humans die. All of them. Even the very best.

Thinking that someone with as much brilliance and inner beauty as Isabella will eventually be tossed aside, into the darkness of the afterlife bothers me more than I might have expected. When I think of her light dimming in any way whatsoever, anger builds inside of me. Sadder even still, in a world made up of selfish creatures, she thinks she'll make a difference.

She won't, however. Not really.

After a few moments of thought about Isabella's responsibilities, I make a decision. "Emmett can take care of your obligations for the weekend." _If he survives Poseidon that is._

"Oh, no. Edward, that's thoughtful, but-"

"Even celestial beings take a break from time to time, Isabella."

She giggles at my example. "Um, well, I mean, I have a few clients that might be taken aback by your bouncer's..."

"Presence?"

She laughs full on, now. "Yes. That's one way of putting it."

"Perhaps Rose can help him. If she's not busy."

"Rose is self-made. And wouldn't work weekends if you paid her a million dollars."

That wasn't a no.

"We'll see. I suspect she might have a soft spot for Emmett. Perhaps he can persuade her."

At that, Isabella holds her hands up in surrender. "Go for it. I'm not going to be held responsible for any physical damage he incurs while in her possession."

The image of Emmett that her warning gives me makes me smile.

"I'll take care of everything. For now, rest."

She reclines the seat and turns onto her side as best she can. She flattens her hands against each other as though she's in prayer and tucks them beneath her cheek. She yawns, but she does not close her eyes just yet. She simply watches me carefully.

I expect that at some point, she may very well see me for exactly who I am, not who I pretend to be. And when that happens, I will have to accept the consequences of my actions. Until then, I plan to enjoy the time I have with Isabella and the way she makes me feel… lighter.

Eventually her lids close and as she dreams away, I relish the scenery as I drive. There are mountains for a while. There are trees, but they thin the further I go. I become curious as to what I will find at the end of this road. In more ways than one.

Time passes but time is nothing to me. I have no idea how long it's been since the bar. I have no idea about anything other than the height of the moon and the quiet of the air. I eventually notice a salty taste to the air and a clearer view of the horizon. It is much more beautiful than the one I found from the vampire's balcony.

When the world opens up after the last, remote intersection, I pull the car to a stop in a lot that sits adjacent to a different kind of earth. I stare for a while, bewildered and amazed at all the things I have missed out on over the course of my long, depressing life. I've never seen the ocean, I realize. Not truly.

As the sun peeks over the horizon and spreads her colors across the water, I'm overcome with… content. I've seen the Styx and the abyss with their darkened soils, and murky waters, and bottomless pits full of souls who will never see the light of day again. But this…

There is an ache in my chest I cannot come to grips with. The beauty this world holds at every turn is beyond my comprehension.

"Isabella?" I whisper as I push some hair out of her face and behind her ear.

"Mmmmm?" she hums and begins to stretch.

"We're here," I tell her, wondering if she's ever been here or if, like me, she has been missing out on the charms of this world. When she opens her eyes, slowly and groggily, I'm not sure what she sees. Whatever it is, It's enough for her to feel concerned to some extent.

"Are you okay?" she asks, as though visiting my thoughts over the past couple of hours or so.

I don't know the answer to her question, overall. But here, with her, with this… with everything, I find it effortless to answer.

"I am now."

* * *

**PSA: music = Bulbo by Feathered Sun**

**Hey, last week I was in such a frenzied state that I forgot to send big huge god sized thanks to Rob Attack for rec'ing Hades on their blog. Now I'm sorry AND thankful. That was pretty awesome. Thanks also to Sue for beta'ing even when she really doesn't have the time, and to Chrisann for her encouragement - and you for reading. Oy - and don't forget to check out what's inside Bella's head by going and reading Belladonna Cullen's "Friend of the Devil" - she's catching up!**


	13. Chapter 13 Dreamer

**Chapter 13. Dreamer**

"What are you thinking about?"

Isabella has plopped down onto the sand beside me. She rests her head against my shoulder and wraps a hand around my arm. Then she inhales the salt air and lets it out as though she's attempting to dismiss all of her troubles.

If only it was that easy I would breathe more often.

Regardless of how the confrontation between her roommate and my bouncer may have affected her earlier, she seems more at ease now. And for me, it's comfortable, being here with her, like this. A passerby might assume we've been this way forever.

And her touch - it still gives me a chill. Although I can honestly say that now I welcome it.

Being next to her is soothing to the extent that I am noticeably more relaxed than I have been in ages. This is despite the fact that I know, eventually, once again, I will want to sink my teeth into her flesh and take her life away.

The conflicting emotions of wanting her physically but also desiring her on a much deeper, blood lust level is all a bit much at the moment. Frankly, I wonder how I am any better than Poseidon or the vampire, considering I'm clearly not who she thinks I am.

She's right to question me on everything that transpired this past week, regardless of who placed the idea there in the first place. But perhaps she need not worry. Perhaps I _am _different in that I intend to ensure nothing bad ever happens to Isabella.

Her instincts are rather telling, I must admit. The questions she throws at me are a blatant reminder that she has some knowledge, on _some _level, that perhaps I am treacherous, a threat to her very existence. In fact, I cannot help but wonder if she is the offspring of some sort of divine being. I believe I would know about her already if that were true though.

One thing I _am _keenly aware of right now is the tone of her voice. It's normally quite cheerful. Currently, it's more of a soft, melodic tune that tears at my chest like the tortuous sting of my blade in the underworld.

She asks me what I'm thinking. The sincerity of her words is refreshing. The problem being she has no idea what she's asking. Or perhaps she does.

As I sit with her in the sand just beyond the crashing waves reach, soaking in the warmth of the rising sun, I stare out at the vastness of this ocean before me. Its beauty fills me with a wonder I can't possibly begin to fathom _or _explain. How is it so much like a mirror to its sister, the Styx, yet it doesn't give me the same dark, harrowing feeling that the Styx does? It is not menacing or depressing. It does not promise emptiness and regret for an eternity to come. Is it the morning glow of a soft sun that sparkles off the ripples of the water that makes the difference? The clean, crisp air that floats across my skin? The white clouds in their ever-changing shapes that hover above? Or is it simply the company I keep?

Perhaps it's all of it.

"I'm thinking about how I'd like to sail across this body of water and never return," I admit. "Maybe due West a bit." I look upward, toward the sky. "The stars are difficult to read this time of day, but perhaps to some of the lesser known Channel Islands. Or San Clemente."

My voice breaks unexpectedly, mid sentence, revealing emotions I'm not fully prepared to deal with. Nor do I understand why I've chosen these exact words for my reply, considering I don't sail, have never been this side of Hell before, and certainly have never visited these Islands that I speak of.

"All alone?" Isabella asks as her grasp tightens a bit around my arm. She scoots closer to block the wind. I peek down at her. She's gazing out beyond us as well with a wishful look in her eyes. I'm curious if there's a chance she would go with me were it possible.

"Preferably not," I finally say.

"Sometimes I think I'd like to do that." She's not exactly saying it to me. I get the feeling it's more of a passing thought she's let escape her lips by accident as she admires the beauty out before us.

"It seems to transcend space and time, does it not?" I wonder aloud and, at that, Isabella begins to hum.

"_Mmmmm.. One day all seven will die."_

I'm taken aback. Is she speaking of the gods? I was under the impression we were but myths to the humans. "I'm sorry?"

Isabella lets out a small huff of laughter. "You know, _Prince_. I mean, I thought you were making a reference." She shakes her head a bit. "I guess not."

Not the gods then. Only princes.

"I'm not following again, I suppose."

"Never mind," she says quietly, going back to her thoughtfulness.

And then, after a quiet moment, I suggest, "You could you know."

"Hmmm?"

"Sail away," I tell her in a low voice, unsure if it's what she wants to hear or not. But even as I make such a hollow promise, she realizes it is too. And that is the end of our daydreaming for now.

She sits upright and the loss of her touch gives me a distinct sense of emptiness. I want to reach out and pull her back into me but some sort of ridiculous logic stops me. I know she doesn't belong to me. She never will.

I suddenly realize the want she creates inside of me has not turned into the urge to kill her as it normally does. Is this another extension of the vampire's will? Has he softened to Isabella as I have? Or is he simply biding his time?

"It's not exactly realistic though, is it?" she asks, pulling me from my thoughts. She drags a finger through the sand, making abstract designs.

Even though I agree. I'm curious as to her reasons for the statement. I'm interested in _everything _Isabella says. "Why is that?"

"Well I don't mean to beat a dead horse here, Edward, but-" she brushes the sand off of her hands. "Work, for one."

I shrug her reasoning away with an eye roll. "That's an absurd reason, Isabella."

She laughs. "For _you _maybe. But most of us don't have a bottomless pit of wealth at our disposal. We _need _money to live. And _purpose_. And therefore… _work_."

"To what end?" This has puzzled me for a millennia. Humans toil away, working themselves into the ground for decades, thinking that is their reason for existing. And that somehow, at the end of their backbreaking labor of some sort, they'll what? Be rewarded for all of this?

It's only in the end, at death, that they realize they get nothing. No amount of earthly wealth will keep that statute from changing. Besides, even if they could, it wouldn't turn their enemies into friends. It certainly wouldn't buy them any favors from the likes of Hades, ruler of the underworld.

"Excuse me?" Isabella doesn't seem to get my meaning. Or read minds.

"Humans," I correct myself. "_People_ seem to be born with an instinct that they _must _work in order to have this purpose you speak of. Those who are _not _born with it are taught. Some find that purpose easily, some _never _find it despite searching their entire lives."

Isabella blinks and a small v forms between her eyes in confusion.

"Everyone ends up cold and alone in the afterlife, Isabella. What does it matter what you do with the time you've got while you're alive if that's what there is to look forward to?"

A short, almost offended sounding "Ha!" is thrown out to me.

"What _matters_," she starts, "is how you affect… you know… the people _around _you."

I get the impression I was supposed to already understand this concept. The truth is, I understand more than she ever possibly could.

"People." I scoff. _Humans. _ "_People_ are not worth the time, Isabella. Believe me."

She tilts her head. The v between her eyes becomes less about not understanding me and more about becoming a tad irate. "Really."

"Yes, really," I tell her. And then I understand _why _she's irate.

I wave a hand. "Not you, of course."

That appears to be neither here nor there. "Exactly why is it that _other _people aren't worth the time, Edward?"

That's easy. "They lie, for one."

Her face falls infinitesimally. "Everyone lies." And her voice is smaller now. I don't believe I was supposed to notice. But I notice everything.

_A note for later._

Regardless, there are plenty of other reasons. "They cheat," I add.

"That's-"

"They steal." I tell her before she can object. I am much more perturbed than I probably should be, but the subject matter is quite close to home for me. "They _kill_. And the _work_ they put in? To make all this _money _they need? They _use _it to further their lying, cheating, stealing, and killing."

"W-" She begins to protest but stops mid-thought, leaving her cheeks looking as though the air is trapped inside her mouth.

Her expression tells me she's struggling with how to argue her point further, and I realize I've lost my temper with her. I take a breath and let calmness spread.

My voice softens as I continue on. "At the end of every road, Isabella, is death and destruction. Of one sort or another."

It's rather sad, actually. To watch souls become filled with so much regret in the afterlife, never able to redeem themselves.

"W-wow." Isabella breathes out in defeat. "I'm…"

Suddenly, with her loss of words, I'm feeling remorseful myself, for how I've put humanity's journey into perspective. Sadder still is the thought of Isabella ending up in my domain. Ever. I don't feel the need to make a point about the afterlife anymore.

"Of course, what do I know?"

Everything.

I know everything.

Unfortunately.

But Isabella doesn't need to know that.

Her eyes are downcast, and even as she attempts to force out a small laugh, I know she's not happy. How could she be? She's keeping company with the king of Hell. I'm the damned epitome of depression.

"You sure are one seriously pessimistic soul, Edward."

She has no idea. I haven't even gotten to the whoremongers and human traffickers. The sadness lingering around the edges of her words is enough to pierce me with anguish. For the first time in the history of Hades, I wish I would think before I speak. And the word she's chosen to describe me… it's ironic.

"I'm not sure I _have _a soul anymore, to be honest," I tell her with a sigh and no thought as to what I'm confessing. I contemplate the water before us again. It's been bothering me for quite some time now. How could I, Hades, ruler of the dead, torturer of souls, feel this increasingly strong bond with such a seemingly insignificant creature?

Except that she's _not _insignificant.

"Everyone's got a soul, Edward," she informs me with a gentle nudge to my arm. Her expression a bit lighter again, finally. "Even you," she adds with the smallest of grins. Her eyes sparkle now, the previous agitation forgotten. And she gives me this look like she truly believes it.

I want to believe her, too.

Startlingly enough, for my sake _and _ the vampire's.

"Do you really think so?" I ask. "Or are you just trying to make me feel better?"

She smiles thoughtfully. "I could ask the same of you."

"Meaning?"

"Do you really think that with all the liars, and cheats, and-" she skips a beat-"Murderers in the world, that _I'm_ the exception?" She looks melancholy. "Or were you just trying to make me feel better?"

One would assume I'd need to avert the question. But I don't. And I'm not lying when I say, "If ever there was an exception, Isabella. There isn't a doubt in my mind that it would be you."

I hold her stare and try to understand what must be going through that head of hers that makes her think she could be the equivalent of anyone stranded in Hell. I could peer into those knowing eyes for an eternity and then some, but it's Isabella who breaks the moment, leaning in to whisper in my ear.

"I really do think you have a soul, Edward," she tells me. I'm only beginning to appreciate the heat of her breath against my skin when she pushes herself up off of the sand and practically, forcibly, changes her mood. "Now, what you _do _with that soul, that's a whole other conversation."

She's back to sarcasm, I believe.

It takes me a moment to realize she's headed back toward the car.

I twist and turn and ask in protest, "Where are you going?" I'm not ready for this discussion to end, but evidently, she's not coming back.

Instead, she spins and begins walking backwards. "Don't you think we need to find a place to stay, Mister Smarty Pants who just drove most of the night with no plan?" she asks me with a wry grin. "I mean, unless you own the entire beach town."

She's obviously teasing me. I think.

But now I'm curious. _Do _I own the entire beach town? A query for later, I suppose. Right now, I must find a place with a view that will inspire Isabella to sail away with me.

* * *

**PSA: Thanks so much for reading this crazy. Thanks to Sue for fixing my words. To Chrisann for telling me to breathe. And BelladonnaCullen for making this a whole lot more fun to write. One of the (many) perks to writing with her? Excellent musical inspiration: try Sleepwalking by Modest Mouse for this chapter. And now you should definitely go find out what's up inside Bella's head over at Friend of the Devil's new update this week... and then read prettykittyartists "Slapshot" for some more fun because this Bella makes me smile so big.**


	14. Chapter 14 Lover

**Chapter 14. Lover**

It's quite possible I own this beach town.

No less than five pedestrians referred to me as "Mister Cullen" throughout my day with Isabella. One mumbled something about me being a morning person now. Three appeared afraid to speak to me at all and barely made eye contact, which I found rather rude. The other asked about a woman I apparently associate with here and whether I'd like her "prepared" for the evening.

I've already made a note to look up this "Luna Clair" at some point to see who she is and why I would know her. And better yet, why it seems to be such a secretive late-night meeting I have with her once every two weeks.

_A concubine, perhaps? _

She certainly won't be necessary going forward.

Not to mention, none of this accounts for the manager of the hotel we ended up at. He quite literally wanted to give us the entire week for free in their honeymoon suite.

"And you didn't let him comp the room because...?" Isabella asks me on our way to the elevator.

"Wouldn't that be, what's the word, unethical?" Did she not just speak of money and how important it is to one's daily life?

"Um, not when you're broke," she informs me. An exception. Of course.

"But I'm _not _broke," I very smugly remind her.

"Right. But _I_ am." Ah, the sarcasm of Isabella.

I wave a hand at her concerns. "It's my treat, Isabella." Really, humans and their constant worry over the monetary value of things.

"I don't know if that's a great idea, considering… I mean, wouldn't you rather go dutch?"

Dutch? Why on Earth...

"What?" she pushes when I don't answer right away.

"Isabella, why in _Hell _would I want to go to the Netherlands? It's freezing there."

She covers that beautiful mouth of hers to muffle the laughter. Then she tries to straighten her face into a more serious expression. "Edward?"

"Yes?"

"You're so weird. But I really like it."

xxxxxxxxx

After getting settled into our room, Isabella decides we should spend the day on the sand, under the sunshine, with nothing but music and each other's company. I'm not opposed to that idea at all other than the tiny, miniscule grains of crushed rock we have to endure.

She allows me to purchase the necessities for such a day out and about, amused with my need to keep all things sand off of me at all costs. Literally. We settle on a plot of land mostly away from the crowd of beach-goers.

I quickly realize I could sit and follow this routine with her on a daily basis for an eternity. Her entire existence reveals her passion and caring for all the people and things she loves as she chats away about everything and everyone in her life.

Her roommate, Rose, for one. Who may or may not be slightly off balance, in this god's humble opinion. The elderly people she visits weekly, the hounds that she walks, her part-time jobs helping friends with - well, pretty much anything they need help with. Whatever brings her the wages she requires to have a full life outside of those positions. She apparently has no desire to make more than what's absolutely necessary to survive.

When we discuss our reading preferences, she tells me her favorite book is about a college student who persuades himself to believe he _must _commit murder in order to make a better life for himself. Consequently, he decides it's quite alright to do so because the individual he wishes to murder is not a good person. The downside, however, is that once the deed is done, the protagonist spends the rest of the book questioning if it was the right thing to do.

_Typical._

I find this character to be an idiot and wonder why humans tend to have this innate sense of guilt inside them whenever they do something they _think_ others will disapprove of.

When a god does something, anything, we know it's for the greater good and tend to forget it about it the moment it passes. The single instance I can honestly say this _hasn't _happened, is the moment I met Isabella.

We debate the sanity of the author, and I'm quite adamant that he is most likely the very student he wrote about seeking some sort of exoneration from the act. She seems to take my opinion to heart although I'm not sure why it would bother her. It's not as though _she _committed the killing.

Later, she speaks of her hometown a bit.

I do not.

She tells me under two thousand people live where she's from. About horseback riding and town hall meetings, local farmer's markets, and how it's both a good and a bad thing to have everyone in town knowing your business.

She speaks very briefly and solemnly about her mother and tells me she misses her very much. But when I offer to take her there, today, right then as a matter of fact, she simply shakes her head.

"I can't," is all she will say on the matter. There's a twinge of sadness in her eyes that she attempts to smile away, but I see it. And it reminds me of how I feel when I think about where I'm from.

After that, Isabella quickly changes the subject matter to dinner, since it's getting late.

After _that_, we took a walk along the water until she began to yawn.

Which brings us to this extremely awkward moment I'm having in this hotel room. This room with a bar full of tiny alcoholic drinks, a king-sized bed, and Isabella, standing on the balcony, alone.

My entire body feels as though it's shaking. However, when I glance down, my hands are perfectly calm. I don't understand what this new torment of emotions might be until finally, I do.

I'm nervous.

As _Hell._

But why? She's human. I'm not afraid of humans.

No, that's incorrect. I am afraid of this one.

"Are you planning on sitting in the corner all night, Edward? Or are you going to come appreciate this incredible view with me?" Isabella calls to me like a siren, pulling me toward impending doom.

Mine… _and _hers.

Despite the ongoing flood of anger at the name she calls me, I remind myself that a) I gave it to her when I introduced myself and b) it's _me _she is here with, despite the name. I attempt to will myself up out of this _Satan _forsaken chair.

One problem remains. My feet refuse to move.

The room is as cold as though a blizzard has suddenly blown through the suite, and yet I know for a fact it's quite warm in here. I set the thermostat myself to make sure Isabella was comfortable.

I focus on the sound of the crashing of waves outside to help silence the spinning thoughts that crowd my mind and finally, _finally, _I defeat my inner turmoil. I'm able to push myself up so that I'm standing at least. With the first few tentative steps I take toward her, I let myself appreciate the silhouette of Isabella's body as it stands against the brightness of the moon.

She's like a goddess standing there only with better curves. And despite the mildness of the breeze, she cradles herself in her arms as she stares out at the ocean. I wonder what crowds _her _thoughts this evening.

I sidle up behind Isabella and fold my arms over top of hers to help keep her warm. The truth is that she is the one that radiates the heat. Sunshine flows through my veins as I stand there holding her. Her body against mine is quite literally perfection.

The desire to turn her around and kiss her again is strong, but I don't trust myself - or the vampire - to do what's right just yet. Whatever that even is at this point.

Isabella sighs into me and relaxes, letting her head fall against the crook of my shoulder.

"I'm so glad you kidnapped me and brought me here," she says, and I can _hear _the smile in her voice. It forces a smile from me as well, thinking that anyone, or rather that _she_, specifically, would be so satisfied to be with _me._

It's unheard of.

"I didn't really have a choice," I tell her honestly, pushing some hair away from her neck. There will be no expanding on that confession with an explanation. Not tonight.

"I could stare out at the ocean forever," she declares whimsically. The mere sound of her voice makes it difficult for me to focus on _not _wanting her. "Couldn't you?"

"Mmm." I dip my head and place a small kiss against her neck to test the waters, so to speak.

Goosebumps spread along her shoulder and she tilts her head, just so, as though she wishes me to continue.

"There's something about you, Edward," she whispers. And I hum against her skin, waiting for the usual urge to form. "About us."

She shivers and it reverberates against me like a raw emotion, one I both welcome and abhor.

"That kiss… the one in your office."

"Yes." I make another well placed brush of my lips against Isabella's neckline, a bit closer to the nape this time. _So far, so good._

_So very good._

"I've never felt that before. That… intense kind of feeling inside my chest… like I was going to explode from the inside out. You know?"

I stop and think over what she's said.

Of course, I've known that gods have a distinct power surging through their feelings. It's more than humans typically can withstand on a very basic, yet complicated level. It's not physical, what she's feeling, it's more… elemental, to put it simply.

"I do," I admit and make a note to myself to reign my emotions in a bit when dealing with Isabella. The last thing I want to do is have her implode right before me.

I believe I should hold off on experimenting anymore for the evening, ready to call it a night. But Isabella has other plans. Instead of waiting for me to do something with the incredibly romantic moment we seem to be sharing, she turns. She faces me. It crumples my determination.

Her eyes are absolutely stunning in this moment.

Her skin is so warm and inviting against mine.

I tuck her hair behind an ear.

"You were superbly created," I tell her quietly, my fingers trailing along her arm.

Not a glimmer of concern shows in her expression for anything I have to say now. For just a flash, here… with her, it's as though I'm like any other human aboveground. But when she pushes up onto her tiptoes to lean in further, fear grips me once again. I stop her gently, taking her wrist in my hand.

"I said there were no expectations this weekend, Isabella."

Only the slightest of hesitation sneaks through in her expression before she replies. "But I didn't."

At that, she closes the space between our lips, and I am done. Or rather, un-done.

The subtle longing she creates in me starts to form as our kiss begins. It grows in intensity and my hands roam. To where I don't know, to be honest. Anywhere. Everywhere. As long as they're on her body. As long as they keep her next to me like this.

With her pressed against me, I feel her heartbeat and it awakens a familiar urge.

_And so much for normal._

It doesn't matter, I decide. I am determined to overcome this craving that resides inside my psyche. Even if it kills me.

I refuse to destroy her, regardless of who, or _what _I am.

Because saying no is not an option at this point.

I _am _Hades after all.

Before I can decide how to handle this delicate situation, Isabella is nudging me backwards until I fall onto one of the pieces of furniture here on the balcony.

"Would you not rather be inside where it's warmer?" I'm clearly mistaken that a woman might want some privacy in these circumstances because Isabella is already removing her hoodie.

It seems as though she is no longer cold.

And no longer inhibited.

Panic strikes me when I am suddenly and absolutely aware that, after a millennium alone with only the dead for company, I have no idea what I'm doing. What to say, how to say it, how to move… where to touch her… but it doesn't seem to matter. Isabella doesn't care. She only appears to want… _me._

Hades.

Awkward and clueless and unaware of how to remove a brassiere, apparently.

And when she straddles the lounger I'm sitting on, lowering herself down onto my lap, all thoughts of what to do and how to do it are thrown out the window.

_Or over the railing._

The desire to know her in the most carnal of ways has now overtaken every other logical thought in my mind. I sit up and pull her into another kiss and this one is more _human_… for her sake. And yet it's so much more than any I have ever dreamed of experiencing.

Her mouth is sweet and wet and warm, and her body is telling me everything we've never said aloud. The vampire's will is but a weakened murmur from the recesses of my mind. As I breathe her name, she whispers in my ear.

"Call me Bella." As though she's reading my mind, she adds, "I like the way it sounds when you say it."

And I'll give her anything she wants. "Bella."

It seems like moments into embracing, caressing, touching, feeling our way around one another, our clothes are gone, and it is only our bare-skinned bodies that now bask in the moonlight. As my fingers glide along her waist, I'm keenly aware that she is softer than I could have possibly imagined. She's like a silkened blanket that slips itself against me quite wonderfully.

Her breasts gently brush against me and my entire body pricks with excitement. It's as though the chills her presence has been sending through me all along were just preparing me for what was to come.

Her legs slide alongside my own. The friction is more than I can bear. It's exhausting keeping control of every cell in my body, of every thought that passes, every urge created. But I know it's required if I want to keep her safe. Despite it all, I may just die if I'm not inside of her soon.

Just when I'm convinced that _death _is about to befall me, Isabella takes me in her soft, gentle, flawless hand and guides me to where I want to be. Where I _need _to be with every fiber of my godly being.

"A goddess," I mutter. As I enter her wholly, I realize how very ill prepared I am for this very moment. Every emotion Isabella has drawn from me since our first moments together, every thought, every touch, every smile and passing glance; her knowing eyes, the tilt of her head, her lips when they meet mine… it's all been nothing compared to this.

Realization hits me in an explosion of electrified pulses throughout every fiber in my questionable soul. This is what she meant when she described our kiss earlier. One-thousand fold.

I'm fully expecting to rip her apart with the vampire's compulsion, but I find I'm not filled with lust, or cravings. Instead, I'm filled with something I cannot say I thought would be possible in the entirety of my existence. The heart that's thumping inside her chest has somehow along the way become not something I have a taste for, not anything I want to eradicate, but rather something I have become one with.

Our rhythm is supremely coexistent in the ideal blend of nerves and passion. With every new experience I have with Isabella, I find another explosion of staggering emotions erupt within me. Tonight, they range from desire, affection, protection, remorse, want, obsession, warmth, passion, fervor… and one that causes the most disturbing concern of all.

At first, I tell myself I don't recognize it.

That I've never known such a feeling.

But I have known.

Since the very juncture in which I nearly trampled her my first night here on Earth.

_Love_.

And as Isabella lets out a cry that comes off like it's both pain and pleasure mixed in only the best of ways, I grab ahold of her for stability through my own climax. The only thing I'm able to do is hold on for dear life afterward.

I am breathless.

I am exhausted.

I am never returning to the underworld.

I want to be with her, always.

Poseidon can jump from the cliffs of Tartarus if he expects otherwise.

xxxxxxxxx

Somewhere in the hours following the absolute best experience of my existence, we find ourselves in the king-sized bed and Isabella falls blissfully into slumber. I simply lie there, watching her breathe, thinking over what we've done.

What _I've _done.

_Call me Bella, _she had told me. To which I wanted very desperately to reply, _Call me Hades._

To hear her say my name.

To have it fall from her lips without reservation...

But that will never happen.

How would this beautiful, lovely, utterly magnificent woman feel if I were to tell her now that it is not Edward Cullen she's been so intimate with, but the god of Hell?

My phone buzzes against the side table. As I begrudgingly reach for it, I vaguely recall it going off several times since the day began but obviously had much more important matters happening. I lift it to see Emmett's number flashing on the screen then set it back down and look over to check on Isabella once again.

The only thing I want to focus on right now is _her_ \- the woman sleeping next to me whose breathing is slow, like a well-timed symphony of calm and beauty.

Logic insists that we can't stay here forever, I realize, but I'm beginning to believe that perhaps we could go. The two of us. Disappear from the likes of Poseidon, and my father, and her silly jobs that make her think her life is worthwhile.

It's not the work that makes Isabella so special, however.

She simply _is_.

She could be that anywhere.

With me.

"Isabella," I whisper but then think better of it. I lean a bit closer and trail a finger along her shoulder. "Bella."

She hums and my world is bright and good.

She turns and blinks and looks up at me with the tiniest of smirks. "Hi."

It's in that smile that I know, with everything I am, everything I've been or will be after this. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I am meant to be with her.

"Kiss me again," I beg her.

And she does.

* * *

**PSA: *hangs do not disturb sign on hotel door* - Thanks Sue for your beta-beautification project. Thanks Chrisann for giving these two the once-over. Thank YOU all for reading and taking the time to leave some love on Hadward & Isabella's story. And speaking of Isabella, don't you want to know her take on this trip? Go find out at belladonnacullen's "Friend of the Devil".**

**Song for this chapter: Billie Eilish - I love you**


	15. Chapter 15 Normal

**Chapter 15. Normal**

Humans can be stubborn creatures.

Isabella, I find, is quite possibly one of the most stubborn of all.

Just this morning, for example, we had a perfectly enjoyable shower together. Aside from being a bit disappointed that her scent was completely washed away from me, I thought we were in a good place here. On the same page and all that.

Apparently not.

"There isn't a job you hold that cannot be replaced by something somewhere else."

She stops, mid inspection of the dress she's found in a touristy shop she thinks is _fucking awesome_ and tilts her head up at me with a teasing scowl upon her face. "I'm going to pretend that wasn't meant to be an insult of some sort."

She goes back to scrutinizing clothing, and although I'm quite smitten by the way she can appear agitated and amused at the same time, I shrug at her declaration. She may think the city holds her there somehow, but if I want to avoid Poseidon, we'll need to move along. Keep him guessing where we are.

"I'm simply stating the obvious, Isabella. Anything you're doing in Los Angeles you can do anywhere. There are plenty of elderly people needing assistance in… Nevada for example."

Another look of shock and awe is awarded to me. "Ne_vada_?"

As though _I'm _the crazy one. What does she have against Nevada? It's a perfectly good state.

_The weather perhaps._

"Texas then?" It's warmer there. But still her face is a frozen sculpture of confusion and irritation. "We could move to the East Coast if you prefer?"

Her hand stops, mid-shuffling of hangars, before she begins again, slower. "We?"

"I mean…"

She inspects one item in particular, quite closely. "Why would you want to leave your businesses anyway?"

Good question.

"Maybe I'm tired of them."

Isabella lets out an abrupt, forced sounding laugh. "Edward, sometimes, I swear, it's like you're a different person all of a sudden."

She trails off, shaking her head.

If she only knew.

"Perhaps I am," I say aloud before thinking it through. She looks up at me, curious, suspicious maybe.

"Since when?"

Isn't it obvious? "Since you."

Crimson rises to her cheeks and I sometimes wish I could make that happen every moment of every day. It's absolutely beautiful.

I follow her to another rack. "Tell me, Isabella, am I the only one to make you blush?"

She hesitates, holding her breath for a moment but then finds her determination despite the blushing glow in her skin. "You're not changing the subject, Edward… ah!" She finds a top she likes. Albeit a bit too large for her frame but still, finally. "Come on, we're going home."

Home.

She says the word as though it's something she yearns for. Something she needs.

"I wasn't changing the subject, you w-"

"Up-bup-bup." She holds a hand up, cutting me off, then strides over to me slowly.

She's close. And once upon a time I might have thought too close, but now she's not nearly close enough. She traps my stare in hers and my breathing catches in the back of my throat, unwilling to let me speak at all.

Those lips. Those beautiful, succulent lips. She wets them with her tongue, and I am but a frozen sculpture for her to mold as she pleases.

_Whittle away, Isabella. I am yours to do with what you will._

As she slips a delicate hand into the front pocket of my pants, it surprises me only for a moment. That feeling is forgotten when another one is awoken as her hand grazes an area she only recently ignited into life.

Many times.

I won't say I'm _completely _against publicly violating Isabella. It obviously would not take much more convincing. When she pulls my car keys out and dangles them in front of me, I'm disappointed to see that's not what she had in mind.

"Either you drive, or I will," she tells me with a sly grin that makes me want to follow through on my initial instinct.

I shut my mouth because I'm only now realizing it's hung open like some sort of prehistoric cave dweller this entire time.

Before I can snatch my keys back, Isabella is on her way to the cash register to pay for her items. As I reluctantly join her to wait for my next opportunity to convince her to stay, the store clerk stares at me. I can feel it. Only every time I try to match her stare, she averts her eyes back down to the clothing she's ringing up.

Even Isabella notices.

"May I help you?" I finally ask, annoyed with this human's rudeness.

The girl chokes on her own nerves like a child might and casts her eyes toward something… anything else. "I'm sorry Mr. Cullen, it's just - I'm surprised to see you here."

I roll my eyes and sigh. More of _this_.

"Day tripping it, Cullen?" one man comments with a salute of some sort from out on the sidewalk.

I shake my head and grab Isabella's bag before leaving the store. I do not like being in the dark with whatever the Hell is going on here. But I _will _find out. Eventually.

There are other side eyes as we make our way to the car. Incoherent whispers float around us as I toss her shopping bag into the trunk along with the many towels we purchased yesterday. If it were not for Isabella being with me, I might be so inclined to smite every human in the vicinity.

As it is, however, she is here, with me. The rest of them don't matter at all.

Before I'm at the driver's side, Isabella pushes me aside and slips into the vehicle, behind the steering wheel.

"You relax, I'm driving," she advises, and then shoots a confused look at the console. She cannot find the key slot.

"It's push button, Isabella." I point to it.

"Ah!" She presses the engine power switch and the car roars to life. When her foot thrusts against the gas pedal, I am, admittedly, turned on a bit. But this is apparently not the time to undress Isabella - with all the pedestrians blatantly staring.

The ride home is much more… _everything_, than the ride here was.

The goddess beside me is not afraid when I very nonchalantly reach over and take her hand in mine. She doesn't flinch when I choose to trail a finger up and down her arm, while pondering what will happen upon our return to Los Angeles and how things went with Emmett and Poseidon. How I will handle the conversation with Emmett in the aftermath. Or how I'm planning on avoiding my brother for the infinite future.

That's not to say she doesn't notice.

"You look awfully deep in thought over there, Edward." By the time I register that's she expects a response, she adds, "Regretting anything?"

How could she possibly think this way? "I _am _considering the consequences of some recent actions, Isabella, however I could never regret anything that happened this weekend."

"Good. Because I don't either."

I glance over at her and I know the elation she brings to me must show. "Good."

"Now-" she reaches for her cell phone and holds it out to me. "Hook your Bluetooth up to my phone for me. We need road trip music."

Um. She wants me to do what with my what?

"Mmm? Sorry?"

"Bluetooth."

I panic a bit. I have no idea what she's talking about. Or what it has to do with her phone.

She reads me instantly and pulls the phone back. "Right. I forgot you're the last of the anti-technologicals." Then she sniggers at her own made up word then opens up the middle console of the vehicle and sorts through some cases until she finds one and smiles.

"This'll do."

She slides the silver disc into a slot on the dashboard. When the music begins to play, Isabella's entire body relaxes into the driver's seat and the remainder of our drive is spent in idle chitchat, silent appreciation of the song choices she's made, and staring out at a world I have yet to discover beyond Los Angeles, California.

xXxXx

"This is not Los Angeles, Isabella," I tell her as we pull into an empty parking lot. She grins over at me and I am, for once in my lifetime, feeling as though I'm not the only evil entity in this world.

"Come on." She flies out of the car and I find I have to quicken my pace to catch up to her.

A scrawny human with disheveled blonde hair and a pimpled face opens the door to the building for us with excitement at first and then a depressed, practically manic, "Oh," when he sees me.

_Feeling's mutual, insignificant human._

"Isabella?"

"Mike, this is my -"

"Boyfriend," I finish for her. Him. For both of them. Just so we're clear. Because the expression on this younger being's face tells me he was expecting her to be alone.

_Never going to happen, I'm afraid._

Isabella's laughter flits through the air, and I cannot help but to shoot a warning look in the direction of the boy who thinks he has a place in her life.

As he leads us down a plain hallway with not much to consider, I watch as the man-child's eyes glaze over while talking with Isabella. Every so often, his hand reaches to offer her assistance with stairs as though she doesn't know how to walk on her own.

She's a fully grown woman, for the love of Satan.

If he touches her I will incinerate every bone in his body.

Finally, when he's gone and I am once again alone with Isabella, I'm about to ask what this side trip is all about when twinkling lights ignite all around us.

"What is this place?"

"You seemed so sad when you said you missed them back home. In LA."

Sad is not the word for it. And LA is not my home. But that's neither here nor there. She's brought me the Heavens. An act no one has ever done, nor would they ever do for me.

And now I'm going to bring them to her.

I nudge Isabella toward the closest object for stability and I rid her of the dress she's only purchased just today. I caress her body with the gentlest of touches until I can no longer take the waiting. I lift her, I kiss her, and I show her my gratitude for such a thoughtful gift.

xXxXx

"Tell me what we're looking at?"

Isabella's hand slides into its home around my waist as we lay back in one of the chairs provided by this monument of sorts. She rests her head against my chest, and I trail a finger along her arm.

I know it well, of course, although I've never seen it for myself. Not in person, that is. I was simply brought into this world with the knowledge. As I look up at the familiar stars, I connect each one the way I know they should fit together and feel a tinge of resentment growing that is as old as my existence.

Ego. That's what we're looking at. Pure, unadulterated ego.

"They're stars," I tell her, in hopes that we can move on to more interesting conversations.

"Please?" she begs and teases and stares up at me with that innocence of wonder in her eyes. It compels me to tell her the stories I've spent thousands of years trying to forget.

I acquiesce. Because this is the power she holds over me.

As she lays her head back down to listen, I clear my throat a bit. "Ancient people of earth came up with constellations to make sense of their world."

"It doesn't seem like you believe that?" she notices.

I shrug. "What greater evidence is there of divine power than the universe all around this planet?"

"God?" she asks. And I feel a frown tugging at my mouth.

"God. _Gods_. Divinity. Call it what you will." She calls it space, apparently.

I look for the set of dots that I know the best and I point. "Do you see that one?"

"Where?"

With my hand over hers, I show her and she nods. "That was the very first constellation," I tell her. "Just after Zeus was given dominion over the skies." I see a smile play at her lips as I add, "It's an ode to his nanny."

He would hate that I called her that.

I could care less.

"His nanny was a -"

"Goat." I smirk. I can't help myself. She was no one to him. In fact, he hated her, if I recall correctly. And yet, because he's Zeus and everything must revolve around him, he put her there to make himself seem the most important god of all the gods.

Blech.

I tell her about a few more. I skip over Orion, son of Poseidon. The child was an abomination in any definition of the word and a buffoon. One day, he trips over his own feet and accidentally kills a perfectly law abiding centaur. The next, he's in the skies, written as a warrior. A hero. Simply because of who his father is.

And because it's written in the stars it must true, right?

When I get to Cassiopeia, Isabella wants to know the story.

I push down the ache inside my chest and begin.

"He has brothers?" I'm not surprised she's unfamiliar with the tales of gods as old as I am. Most humans prefer the more modern idols to worship. Buddha for one. The grinning bastard has more fans than Isabella's Jonas Brothers.

"Two," I tell her with hopefully only a hint of despair hidden in my tone. "Cassiopeia offended his brother Poseidon."

"How?"

I push. "She was confident, beautiful."

"Like Rose."

_Like you._

Isabella does not believe herself to be the beauty that she is. I decide to prove it to her by pulling her limbs from me and posing her to mimic the way Cassiopeia's stars align.

Her breasts glow against the twinkling lights. Her legs squirm but not much. She is the epitome of perfection. Celestial.

"That's not the comparison I was making." I tell her quietly in her ear. "You put her beauty to shame."

Isabella's cheeks turn pink and it is transcendent. If it were up to me, she would have the utmost prominent cluster of stars representing her for all time.

Blush colored stars just north of Andromeda.

She twists and turns and slides her hands around my neck as I ponder making that happen somehow. She utters, "What's the rest of her story?"

My voice is lower now, longing to end this conversation, but she wants to know. And what Isabella requests, I give her.

"She offended Poseidon… and Zeus because she was willing to challenge them. She wouldn't back down from them. So they hung her upside down and chained her to the stars where she hangs to this day."

The V between her brow forms and she jerks her head back a bit. "They're evil."

I let out a small, silent laugh. "They're gods."

Bella shudders. "What about the other brother? Was he any better?"

What smile I might have been wearing fades because no, he's not. "Most would say far worse."

She looks up. "Well where is he?"

I follow her stare even though I know there's no place in the stars for me. "He's doesn't belong there."

Her eyes are back on me now, and I meet them when she asks, "What's his name?"

My heart stops. My breathing hitches. Because I _want _to say it. I want to tell her my name and hear her say it over and over as I lay her down on the carpet to claim her body once again.

Instead, I gather her dress from the floor and hold it out for her.

"We should pull ourselves together. That boy will be back soon."

xXxXx

The second half of our drive back to Los Angeles is a bit quieter than the first. As I keep to the speed limit, Isabella tells me a little more about her mother and how there are things that weren't said when she left Arizona. I tell her I know how she feels on some level, and although this isn't the course I would take, I suggest she face the things she feels she needs to say. In person. Otherwise they may haunt her forever, and that is not acceptable.

Isabella should not be preyed upon by the dead.

There's a special glimmer in her eyes, however, as she tells me a story about her father and how he owned a bookstore, once upon a time. She was incredibly happy then. Not that she needed to tell me, I can see it in her expression as she describes the endless shelves of books and countless nights she spent reading a new story while he closed up for the evening.

I recall that same look when she was in my office, letting her fingers trace book spines, reading their titles to see where my interests lie.

And how she picked up one in particular, opened it quite carefully, placed it up against her nose, closed her eyes - and inhaled.

It was provocative in ways I hadn't expected.

I realized two things during that conversation. One, not all fathers are heartless pricks who only wish to torture their offspring. And two, I am buying that bookstore back for her.

xXxXx

As I hold Isabella in my arms outside her apartment building back in Los Angeles, I lean in and kiss her one more time, reluctant to leave.

And I hum.

"Are you sure I can't drop you at my penthouse? The view is-"

"Amazing, I'm sure," she responds quietly. "But I really need to be in my own place, get into my own clothes, and follow up on all the things your bouncer took care of for me this weekend, Edward."

I nod. "I see." I let her go a little resentfully, with a wistful grin and a sense of loss, then slide into the car to leave. Before I can close the door, Isabella stops me.

"Hey." I look up at her and that smile. It's tempting to stay with her, here, always, but I have things to take care of as well, I suppose. "Can I cook you a late dinner after?" she asks.

I glance at the building she lives in. "Here?"

She laughs. "Yeah, Edward, _here_. It's an apartment building, not a local jail. The bars on the windows are for protection from what's on the outside, not to keep us in."

"I don't understand." I search the streets for threats but see absolutely none. It's quite nice, actually, with its tree lined road and manicured grass filled park across the street. "Why would you need to keep anyone out in this neighborhood?"

Isabella's mouth twists a little. "You just never know, Edward. That's all."

I nod, curious, and cannot help feeling as though somehow, on some level, she's referring to me. Even if she doesn't know it yet.

"Understood," I tell her. Before she closes my door, Isabella leans in through the window and places a kiss against my lips that makes me want to forget about my to-do list for the day altogether. And hers.

"And um-" she tucks some hair behind her ear. "Bring an overnight bag?" Then she smiles with only a hint of the shy girl I met not too long ago. "Bye," she whispers and then simply walks away, as though she hasn't a care in the world. Like the universe _didn't _just come together over our weekend together in the most perfectly exquisite way possible.

I still swim in the memory of the passion that filled me from being with her. Even when the bumbling blonde she calls "Mike" interfered.

Fervor is immediately followed by guilt that eats away at every fiber within me, for letting her believe she's been intimate with Edward Cullen, successful businessman of LA. As opposed to Hades, ruler of the underworld.

The one thing I have going for me is that at least I'm not a vampire.

The need to come clean with Isabella looms like an angry storm in the back of my mind.

Spending time with her, listening to her stories and wanting to tell her all of mine is too much to bear at times. But how do I tell her? How do I risk losing what I've only just acquired?

I watch her until she's in the building and I can no longer see her. Then I head off to the Brick and Mortar, where I need to plot out a way to make Poseidon go away for good.

xXxXx

If I had given any thought, even a passing speculation on leaving Poseidon for Emmett to deal with, I would have never taken Isabella to that beach town. I'm barely one foot into the Brick and Mortar when he's hopping down off of a countertop and striding toward me with malice in his expression.

"Dude. Why have you NOT been answering your fucking phone?"

My defenses are set and I attempt to diffuse Emmett. "I'm here now," I begin to tell him, when I notice… "What happened to your face?"

"Exactly. Jackhole."

"That doesn't answer my question, Emmett."

It does not escape my notice that Jasper is lurking in the corner of the room in his booth, however, he doesn't seem at all interested in taking part in this conversation. He simply plays his music softly and pretends he doesn't see us.

I mean really, if anyone is the stalker, it's this guy.

"The big guy?" Emmett interrupts my thoughts. "Who you wanted me to _distract_?" He's using air quotes again. This can't end well. "Wasn't having that shit."

"So you distracted him with your face?"

"I dis- No. Dickwad. I didn't distract him at all. The minute I approached him, he made this annoying fucking face like he was bored and then... he flicked me."

I do try to subdue the snigger. I'm not certain I'm completely successful though. "Flicked you."

"Yeah, he fucking… flicked me." Emmett does a demonstration. "With his tiny pinky fucking finger. I hit the back wall like a ton of bricks. Literally."

Oh, Poseidon. Always showing off.

"I mean, the good news is I heal pretty fucking fast, right? The bad news - and I haven't decided whether you knew this already or not, because, Ed. Seriously. If you did, that's fucked up."

"Knew what?"

"Helloooo, what's stronger than a vampire, dude?"

I'm not sure how to answer this question. Does he already know the answer, and he's just testing me? Or is he legitimately asking me a question, here?

"Um."

"Exactly," he says. "You're dealing with someone, or, some_thing_. Shit. I don't even know what the hell this is, Edward."

I breathe a slight sigh of relief that he hasn't done too much homework on the matter, at least. But there's still a matter of where Poseidon is.

"If you didn't take care of him, then who-?"

"Rose."

I lift an eyebrow.

"Someone calling my name?" And speak of the damned devil.

Not me. Her.

I turn to greet Isabella's roommate with a smile that hopefully covers up my shock to see her here, when I notice she has a much scarier angry face than the vampire, Emmett.

Yikes.

"Rose, where did you-"

"Don't _Rose _me," she says, stampeding her way through the open room. "You wanna fess up to what in the hell you're involved with, or should I spell it out for everyone?"

"I-"

"Is it gambling or the mob, Edward? Because the way that guy was acting the other night, he could have easily been here to collect on a debt you ran up over in Vegas, or someone sent to kill your stupid face."

"How did you-"

"I do _not _want Bella involved with someone who's got ugly ass people like that after him."

I turn to Emmett for some help with this conversation. He simply shrugs.

_Leaving me to the wolves, I see._

I hadn't quite figured out what I'd tell Emmett about any of this yet, but I have a long-standing rule of thumb. When in doubt, choose the lesser of the two evils that have been laid before you.

It's a loose rule.

More of a guideline, actually.

It depends on the circumstances.

"Gambling," I blurt out. "Yes. I have a very, very long standing gambling problem."

No big deal. Money is nothing.

"Motherfucker."

"Dude, since when-"

"But-" I interrupt both of them. "I haven't been that person in a long time. And I'm still trying to clean up the messes I created. That isn't me anymore, I promise you both."

A partial truth. I'm okay with partial truths. With these two, at least.

"Ha!" Emmett and I both jump back at Rose's sudden outburst of… humor? "Promise," she says. "What's a promise worth to a liar?"

Her words are sharp, and I will admit, true.

Emmett's brow raises and my chest caves. "Wow. Harsh _and _deep," my so-called friend and bouncer says. Then he nods his approval and I am left scowling at the one person who's supposed to have my back here.

"I-"

Rose takes a fearless step forward, quite frankly stunning me into silence, and points to me. "I came here to tell you," she huffs out, "And I'm only going to say it once, Edward." She leans in so we're practically nose to nose, and holds my stare. "Do. Not. Fucking. Hurt. My girl. You feel me?" She narrows her eyes. "_Mister Cullen_?"

I clench my jaw. I swallow down the urge to show her exactly who she's dealing with.

Because I know she's in the right with this particular subject.

So I nod, instead.

"Excellent." She looks over to Emmett, who is as speechless as I am. "Later."

As she stalks out of the bar, the tension in my body leaves and I lean up against a bar stool. I need to figure out how to make this existence the _right _existence before that woman finds a way to turn Isabella against me.

Only a few moments go by when I realize Emmett hasn't left the room. I look up at him. With his arms crossed and his face contorted into a disapproving glare like this, he reminds me very much of Poseidon.

Apart from the fact that I like him.

Some.

"Since when are you a gambler?"

I wave a hand and push myself up off of the stool. "It was ages ago. Secret addiction, blah blah blah. This man is a leftover means to a very old end."

"He gonna be a regular means? Because if he is, I'm gonna need to figure some shit out with regards to dealing with him."

"No." I hope.

"No? You absolutely sure about that, Ed?"

Best case scenario, I find a way to make my Poseidon problem go away completely. Worst case, he destroys this place and everything in it.

"I'm sure," I tell the vampire.

"Good because, second order of business… why did I spend my weekend evenings with a bunch of fucking old people? You know it's like the ultimate insult to a vampire to be faced with that kind of humanity."

"So you took care of-"

"I took care of everything you asked me to. I mean, I got some strange looks from the dog owners when I showed up at nine pm to walk their animals… and it took some convincing for the retirement home to let me in after hours but-"

"Good." I'm satisfied that Isabella at least will know I keep my promises, despite what Rose might tell her.

I make my way back toward the office. It's the only place in this satan-forsaken place that's quiet.

"Hold up, that's it? Good? No explanation? No… hey Emmett, I know I was a complete douchenozzle laying all that shit on you but-"

"I _am _a complete douchenozzle, Emmett," I tell him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good friend."

"Fucking A I'm a good friend," he says before I disappear down the hallway. Then hollers after me, "I'm your _only _friend jackass!"

He's probably correct.

Which makes me feel a bit sad for the vampire.

For both of us.

After I close the door to my office behind me, I fall into the chair behind my desk and tap my fingers against the armrests, unsure of what to do next. I need a plan. Preferably _before _dinner with Isabella.

I pull the desk's top drawer open and rifle through it, looking for a pen and some paper. Instead I find a wrinkled parchment with extremely proper writing on it.

_Bahia Marina, California._

Odd. I believe that's quite near where Isabella and I just spent our weekend.

I scan the document to see what it's about and I find what looks like they want money from me for a boat slip.

One month's charge to keep "_The Luna Clair" _at one of their docks.

I grin, triumphant that once again I can rest assured that I am not a womanizer because apparently _this _is the "woman" people were inquiring about while I was gallivanting with Isabella the past two days.

I own a boat. A sailboat to be exact. And I've named it.

I wonder, momentarily, if this might be why I drove all the way to the beach. And how I knew where those islands were. _And how the stars would guide me there._

Another will directed from the vampire? _Perhaps he has her best interests at heart as well._

It may drive me to insanity figuring out this bonded tie between the two of us.

As I contemplate the need for a discussion on the matter with the vampire, a plastic case in the drawer to my desk catches my attention. I pick it up as I drop the paper bill down onto the desk. It looks like the "CD" Isabella played in the car, and it's got the same person on the front of it that she forced me to listen to practically the entire way home.

Prince. His name, apparently. Only he's not royalty. He's a musician.

It takes a few minutes to find a contraption that might be able to play this circular disk and then another ten or fifteen to figure out how it works.

I figure it out. I'm the god of Hell, after all.

The first song plays. "Hmmm, no." I hit the "forward" button. "Nope." Again. "Ew. No." And again.

"_Yes_. This one."

I lean back in the chair as far as I can go and I close my eyes. I'm frustrated. Anxious. Exhausted. And yet, blissful listening to this Prince sing about doves crying. The lyrics make me feel as though I'm back in the hotel room with Isabella. Then they make me imagine her leaving me in Hell. Alone.

I don't like this song, I decide.

Slowly, I allow my eyes to open and when I do, I'm awarded a view of the most intricate interpretations of the sky above me. Such a familiar sight, only I'm no longer on the beach with a beautiful woman in my arms, or in a planetarium that has been modified to resemble the night sky. I'm gazing up at the ceiling of my office and I'm in awe of what appears to be an entire galaxy of grace and artistry.

It's more alluring than the live version. More fantastic than the built in, light up version I saw with Isabella.

Its colors are bright and moving. Its detail depicts such knowledge that one would have to assume the creator has seen the skies at their most vulnerable.

I have never been one to be jealous of Zeus and his command over the skies.

Until now.

No, not now. It was in the small room, just a short while ago, with Isabella staring up at the vastness above us and being able to witness such wonder in her eyes. How the stars made her feel. How the stories affected her. I finally understood why people worship my brother.

I will never make her feel that way.

_She deserves more._

Could the vampire have done this? Created such elegance? Because, if so, there's much, much more to him than I had originally thought. The talent it would take to bring such a view to life like this would take years, decades maybe, to perfect. I might even be able to ignore the fact that he's quite perfectly replicated a few of my least favorite of the constellations in his painting.

He must have. Emmett couldn't possibly and Jasper… well.

My head falls, thinking all of it over in my mind and something catches my attention. Another disc sits inside the desk, only this one has no cover. It's simple, clear, and scratched on the outside. Worn. Only one word is scrawled across the plastic, shiny CD itself. Coachella. As curiosity fills me with what that means, exactly, I replace the CD in the music box with this one, and hit play.

The music begins and it sets a tone for me that seems appropriate - somber and contemplative.

When the singer begins finally, I find that it's the same musician but he sounds a bit different here. Otherworldly, perhaps. As though he's on another plane of existence. And I follow him there, letting my eyes close again.

I hear sounds in the background, as though he's outside somewhere. His voice is strained and, dare I say, remorseful in a way that hits quite close to home.

I sit, listening to the pain in his voice, imagining the vampire listening to this song, in this same spot, over and over. So many evenings spent, letting the guilt of sins past and the decisions for his future fill him up until the pain he feels cannot bear another thought.

I'm beginning to feel the same when the cell phone inside my pocket begins to buzz to life.

At first I smile when I see Isabella's name pop up on the screen, but then her words jolt me upright in my chair.

**Edward, We need to talk**

I'm not accustomed to many human sayings, but this one I've heard many times in stories from the dead.

And it's never good.

* * *

**PSA: Belladonnacullen makes me believe this guy really exists. (he does though, right?) - and that her Bella (Isabella) was made for him. Make sure you check out how this half of the trip went down from Bella's point of view in "Friend of the Devil".**

**THANKS to the bottom of Tartarus to the usual suspects this week: Sue for her beta-expertise, Chrisann for her all powerful wisdom and YOU ALL - so much - for continuing to read this ridiculousness and feeling the urge to leave your thoughts. It means the universe.**

**_Songs in case you're wondering: When Doves Cry by Prince, and then the 2nd song he plays is Prince's version of "Creep" by Radiohead live from Coachella, 2008. *kill me now*_**


	16. Chapter 16 Confessor

**Chapter 16. Confessor **

_**We need to talk.**_

Thunder crashes outside the Brick and Mortar as I read the words Isabella has sent through this confounded device again. I didn't think a storm was expected this evening, but it doesn't cause quite the stir that this pit in the bottom of my stomach does. It feels as though I'm falling toward no bottom, no end - much like the pits of Tartarus.

Something tells me Isabella does not have more questions about the stars in the sky or the gods that they represent.

Rain begins to ting against the window of my office as I type a reply. I become agitated with the gadget in my hands. It's taking far too long to say what I want to say with this damned thing. I want to be able to tell her what I'm thinking and have her hear my words immediately, live, I want to look into her eyes, see her reactions. But this is the way of communicating Isabella has chosen, so I will respect it.

For now

**Instinct would have me at your home in minutes **

**instead I'm typing into this damned plastic contraption**

Tiny blinking dots appear on my screen and it takes a bit of waiting, but she replies.

**Rose says you're not being honest with me**

I scowl at the phone. It was only a matter of time, I suppose, before that woman got back to Isabella with her exaggerated news about a make-believe situation. I begin to reply but then more dots appear, and I stand by for more from Isabella.

The wait is excruciating this time.

**I know what you're going to say**

**You don't care about what Rose thinks**

**You care what I think**

**I want to think you're being honest with me, but Rose wouldn't lie**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Would you?**

I stare at her words and my chest aches as though it's been struck by the lightning that illuminates the trees outside.

_Would I? _Every inch of me wants to tell her no. To assure her she can trust me.

But can she?

**I'm a liar, Isabella**

_Always have been, always will be._ Even if I don't want it to be so.

**She says you've put me in danger**

I clench my teeth at the screen. I snarl. I sincerely wish to rip Rose's voice box from her throat. however, I dismiss the thought because that would prove her point exactly. And probably upset Isabella.

**But I've never lied to you** \- I type and send.

**But you haven't told me the whole truth- **she replies.

She's searching for my assurances. To confirm, one way or another, who I am. And I give it to her as thunder crashes over the building again.

**No, I know I haven't**

Time literally stands still, and I feel as though I'm going to spin into madness before she sends me another response.

**Can you?**

Can I?

I have, obviously, in some ways. The stars for example. But in _most_?

I type my reply frantically as the rain beats harder outdoors, before she has the chance to decide to Hell with me.

I'm about to send her my confession when I stop. And as my finger hovers over the SEND button, I ask myself one last time.

Satan.

Do I really want to do this?

Do I _truly _want to risk losing her?

_You have to._

**I want to**

**My whole life people have told me who I was and what they expected of me**

**My whole life I believed it**

**For a moment I wanted to believe I was something different**

If feels like another thousand years pass before… **I understand**

I doubt that.

**You couldn't **\- I tell her.

**I could **

I shake my head at her naivety. How could she possibly understand the experiences of a liar, a thief, a murderer? And then I also shake my head at my own ignorance. How did I possibly think I could come here and be different? How could I put her in this impossible situation?

**There are things I haven't said **\- I send it without saying the rest of what I want to say, what I want so desperately for her to know.

**We need to talk** \- she sends again. And I agree.

**We do**

Again, it feels like the universe has come to a complete halt before she replies.

**We need to tell the whole truth going forward **\- she tells me. And it frightens me like nothing in the underworld ever has - or anything in Mount Olympus, for that matter.

But it's time, I decide, I must confess my sins. All of them.

I type my reply while thunder rolls. It's within a mile away now.

**I'm not who you think I am, Isabella**

**In fact, I'm not even who I want to be**

I wait for her to tell me _thank you for being honest_. I wait to hear _it's over_. This, _thing _I've conned myself into believing could happen. It's done.

When the phone buzzes again, I almost don't bother reading it.

I'm glad I do.

**Let's pull off the masks**

**Let's be honest**

**Because Edward… **

**Yes?**

The phone rings this time.

Just once.

I answer but can't bring myself to say a single word. They're caught in my throat again.

What could I possibly say to her that would make everything I've done alright? What do I say to the goddess who has shown me a sliver of serenity?

A thump outside the office door demands I pull my thoughts away from Isabella. Just for a moment. I don't like spies, and if I find a certain vampire lurking out in the hallways, I swear I will tear his head from his body.

"Edward-" Her voice is low, unsteady, but not from the other end of the phone.

_Goodbye Jasper. _

I pull the door open and my expression turns from rage to shock.

My head spins and my blood rushes.

It isn't the vampire. It's Isabella, standing there, drenched to the bone. Her garments stick to her like they've been painted there. Her hair is matted against her face. Worry is etched across her brow, and she is still holding her phone to her ear as she stares up at me.

"I love you," she says, chest heaving, voice shaking. Afraid, perhaps.

There's a very small part of me that yearns to warn her I'm not Edward Cullen. That I _am _the danger Rose has warned her about. But the other part, the one she's awoken and made me believe I have a place here with her is elated in a way I never thought possible.

I open my mouth to speak, but I'm torn as to which words should come out. And therefore, I am mute.

My chest tightens. My pulse quickens. My body shivers with disbelief.

Three words. Strung together in such a way. From her. I may have dreamt it. Dared to wish it. But to actually hear her say them…

Discussion is fruitless, I decide. How could words possibly convey what she's stirred in me?

"I lo-"

I reach out and pull her into me before she can finish. I crash my lips against hers in search for a way to make her understand what she's done to me. For me. What she continues to do every moment she exists.

Cell phones forgotten, our lips part, and I couldn't care less that I'm now just as wet as she is.

Small notes of urgency from her make it impossible for me to resist lifting her up and whisking her to my desk. And when I set her down, her legs tighten around my waist, locking me against her, unable to escape.

As though I would want that.

I let the kiss end for a moment and, breathlessly, I take her face in my hands so I can gaze into her eyes to see it for myself. Just in case I heard her wrong.

But there it is.

Love.

And it's mine.

My voice is but a cracked, broken whisper when I tell her, "I love you too." It's as though the words have been trapped for a millennia and have finally found a way to escape.

She's eager when she responds. "Show me the stars."

She needn't say another word.

I pull the soaked shirt up and over her head then toss it aside. I practically rip the buttons from her jeans and soon, they are gone as well.

My shirt.

My pants.

Her sandals.

My shoes.

I kiss her again, but there are no soft touches this time. No gentle caresses or light strokes against her skin. I am inside her as quickly as I can make it happen and it is rough. It is desperate. Frantic. And it is welcome.

I balance us against the desk, one hand fisted in her hair as her nails scrape against my back.

I plead quietly for the ability to make her feel what I feel in this moment and she begs for more.

More.

And I give it to her. All of me. Until I am spent and Isabella is breathing my name, albeit not the one I long to hear.

She falls back and I lean into her, placing breathless kisses everywhere - her breasts, her hip, the inside of her thigh. Then I bend a knee and lift her leg and taste her the way I know she desires.

xXxXx

"I believe you said you prefer a message through our electronic devices before seeing me as opposed to just showing up," I remind Isabella with a grin as we lay exhausted on my office floor. The truth is I would accept a visit from her on any terms, under any circumstances, especially if it ends with her lying naked at my side each time.

She laughs. "I texted," she says and then adds, "technically."

As she lays blissful, her arm hangs over her face, covering her eyes and she works to steady her breathing.

I am next to her, on my side, elbow against the floor. I simply admire her absolute beauty as I trace imaginary Greek letters across her belly.

"We didn't talk," she says.

"You've already said all the words I need to hear," I tell her, leaning down to place kisses along her shoulder, behind her ear, at her jaw.

"I love you," I say the words again. And I will continue saying it for as long as the universe exists.

Isabella's lips turn upward into a smile. "I love you too, but we still need to talk."

The tone in her voice tells me she's not going to let it go.

"If you insist." I sit up and steel myself. And when she sits up as well, she seems as though she's trying to decide if this whole "talking" thing is a good idea or not.

I'm deciding which piece of furniture to take her to, to help make the decision a bit easier when she peeks over at me. "Mind if I use the ladies room?"

Defeated again. "Of course not."

As Isabella gathers her shirt, pulls it over her head and leaves, I let the reality of her words sink in. Somehow, I am lighter than I have been in many ages.

When a cool breeze blows through the room, I barely notice.

"That was quite a show."

At the sound of his voice, I sigh.

It's my own fault for letting him slip my mind.

I should have known he would come. I also should have known he'd sit in the shadows and watch. He's always been voyeuristic. There's no evading him now. If he's even been here but a few minutes, he knows who Isabella is to me. He's heard me confess my feelings to her.

"I suppose it makes sense," he says, closer now. He steps into the light, and I push myself up off of the floor to gather my clothes.

"What are you talking about, Poseidon?"

"The girl," he says. "The murderer."

I turn in the midst of zipping up my pants and shoot him an angry glare. "What?"

His hateful, knowing grin makes my stomach turn. "You didn't know. Well this is a first." He crosses his arms.

The jackass is being cryptic. I decide, for now, to give him fair warning. "Brother, if one more word emerges from your mouth about-"

"She killed a man in cold blood and the god of Hell turns a blind eye." He laughs as though he's telling a joke. It's enough to throw me into a rage that lurches me toward him. I slam him against the wall by his throat, causing him to choke and sputter whatever last words he may be trying to convey.

My voice is a churning storm now.

"You're a liar, Poseidon," I tell him through clenched teeth.

He doesn't flinch despite his air supply being cut off. Instead, he smirks. As soon as I hear Isabella in the hallway, returning from the restroom, he gives me a cool wink and disappears as quickly as he arrived.

_Fucking _"Asshole."

"Were you talking to some- are you okay?" she asks in response to my mangled expression.

I straighten myself and push fingers through my hair, flustered. I try to smile for her. "No one." And it's not a lie. Poseidon means nothing. His words mean less than that. "I'm fine."

But I'm not fine.

My brother's declaration agitates me, yes, and he would say anything to get the exact reaction he did, but still - I know there is a need to debunk these accusations.

I try to find the words I need to ask her about what the king of the sea has told me but honestly, it's not that I can't find them. It's that I have no wish to know the answer to my question.

Before I make a decision about which way to go, Isabella takes my hand in hers and leads me to a spot on the floor. She sits and tugs at my arms, encouraging me to join her.

And I do.

She is cross-legged in front of me. She squeezes my hand a bit. She lets a sad smile play at the sides of her mouth.

"I told you about my mom."

I nod. "Yes, you-"

"And my dad."

What is she getting at? "I know, Isabella, what is-"

"I have another story to tell you."

She takes a deep breath in, letting it out slowly before she continues. And I believe it's time for me to stop interrupting her.

"My dad was my hero. When he died, my mom took his place. She tried to be my everything. She read to me, she would lay in the backyard with me like my dad did, looking for meteors, pointing out Mars and Venus. She tried to keep The Dawn Treader in good repair. She tried to keep the shop going. But late at night, I'd hear her crying in her room. And if I came home early from work, I'd hear her on the phone with creditors."

She's much like her daughter. "She found more worth in things of the heart, I'm guessing."

Isabella nods and blinks back tears. "I think she married James for his money. I think he made her feel safe at first."

"You have a step-father?" It hadn't crossed my mind, honestly. I'm not sure why it would matter.

"Had," she corrects me as she searches the floor for her next words.

"I don't care about your stepfather, Bella. He's nothing to me." There are much more important things for us to-

"I cared." She finds my eyes again, and I see anger simmering behind hers.

A troubling concern begins to creep its way into my stomach.

"Mom hid it from me at first," she admits. "I didn't know what I was seeing. More foundation around her eyes." She touches the side of her face. A memory there. "Long sleeves in the summertime." She pulls at the cuffs of her own shirt. "Those drives at night, those over the top, super fun drives when we were singing at the top of our lungs..."

Her lips tremble, and I know what she's trying to tell me. He isn't simply meaningless. He's a coward who found worth in making the woman he married feel worthless.

I don't think I could bear it if she was to tell me he touched her. In any way.

"I'll destroy him," I promise, but Isabella shakes her head.

"I already did."

Her expression changes. She bites her lip. She blinks the tears away.

But those words. They still my thoughts.

_She already did._

Poseidon isn't a liar.

_She killed a man in cold blood._

And I don't care.

I reach for her, but she pulls away as though I might give her something she doesn't deserve.

"I should have told you." Her voice shakes. "You had a right to know. I can't go back home. I can never take you there. I shouldn't be with you."

She cannot possibly believe this. She can't in a million eons think that anything she has done would be able to break the bond I have with her now, would stop me from loving her.

_And the god of Hell turns a blind eye._

I have to.

I move closer, so she has nowhere else to go. "Did he hurt you?"

I will destroy him again, and again, and again, if he has.

She shakes her head, assuring me with the pain of someone who feels she is a failure. "My mom though. Over and over..."

"So you ended him."

She shakes her head as though she wishes to forget, but just as I will never forget the hundreds of thousands of souls I've tortured, neither will she.

"She was never going to leave him," she tells me. "I couldn't lose her too," she pleads.

"So I, I…" Tears fall against her face and it is too much for me to bear, too much to watch her revisit these awful memories. She clearly doesn't want to continue with this horrid story, and I don't need to hear the rest. But my needs are petty, and she seems to require a purging of her sins, regardless of who she is confessing them to.

"We lied and I should be rotting in a jail somewhere right now, but I'm not and now..." the anguish in her voice rushes through me like poison covered needles prickling their way through my veins. All I can do is hold her, cradling her with everything I am, unwilling to let her take this burden alone any longer.

"A mother's love for their child is stronger than any other could ever be, Isabella," I tell her. "A child's love for their mother is unparalleled."

"It's no excuse," she insists. "I was angry. I could have reported him, or changed the locks, or tried harder to get my mom to a shelter. So many options, but I shot him. In cold blood. And Edward?" She looks up at me for a split second. "I liked it."

Then she hides her face further into my chest and I let her words linger.

We sit there in silence, the two of us. Isabella, ashamed of what she's done, and me, ashamed that there was a time when I would have allowed this creature to be thrown into the bleakest parts of the underworld, tortured for defending her mother from monsters.

Demi-gods are hailed as heroes for doing the same.

For years - centuries - I've held no opinion one way or the other as to what circumstances brought souls to Tartarus, The Phlegethon, The Cocytus. It wasn't my concern, nor my interest. But now I wonder. Had I heard their stories, listened to their plights, might I have granted them a pardon from the torment I might bring them? Or is it just this _one _particular soul that makes me want to save her from that fate?

Regardless, even if I don't have the power to save her from her final destination, I can help ease her guilt while she still lives among the mortals. Because I recall a time, a _day _really, when I liked it too.

"Bella." Her eyes don't meet mine. Not yet. "Do you remember the story I told you in the room full of stars you took me to?"

She tilts her head and ah, there they are. "Which one?"

"The god who hung the goddess upside down in the stars?"

The small V is back as she narrows her eyes. "Zeus?"

I nod and embrace her firmly. "Well, before he was born and became the agitating egotistical being he was at that point, his father-" I don't say his name- "Lived in fear of a prophecy that he would one day be overtaken by his own offspring."

"Yes." Isabella sits up and cuts in. "That's just like how in Harry Potter-"

I hold up a hand to stop her. This isn't about phoenixes and children's stories. "Because of the prophecy, Zeus' father came to the conclusion that the best course of action, to avoid such a prophecy coming to fruition, was to swallow every one of his children whole."

She situates herself and gasps. "What?"

"Figuratively, of course. What he actually did was hide them away in the far corners of the world from everyone who loved them. He shackled them, starved them-" I hesitate before adding the last part-"Abused them."

She lets out a breath of air. "These gods were horrible, Edward. You really should try reading something a little lighter. There were prophecies in Harry Potter too, but-"

"When his _wife_," I continue. "Rhea, who was heartbroken over the loss of her _first _five children, had their _sixth _child, Zeus, she raised him in secret. When he was old enough, she sent him to rescue his siblings and punish their father for what he had done, for taking her children away from her."

Isabella's hand is against her chest, and her breathing is heavy. "Did he save them?"

I remember the day quite clearly. It was the first and last time I was ever actually happy to see my younger brother.

"He did." I lean back and search the stars on the ceiling as though rifling through a scrapbook of my family's history.

"He and his siblings defeated their father in a horrible war. So, in the end, his father brought the very prophecy he feared to life himself." Of course, that war was before Zeus himself became the power-hungry dick he is today.

Isabella's eyes are big as a child's, eager to hear the end of the story.

"What happened?"

"They threw him into the pits of Tartarus."

"What's that?"

"A very deep, very dark well of despair, Isabella. No one survives Tartarus. Not even a Titan."

"Is he still there?"

I nod again. "Some say he was devoured by the creatures who lurk there. Others believe he could never truly perish."

"And you? What do you believe?"

I swallow. I know where Cronos resides. Where he will never see the likes of another being again or know the company of his own children. Whether he is alive or dead is not my burden these days.

"I believe that sometimes, fathers, or… _step_fathers do things so terrible, so vile, so corrupt, but the mothers cannot bring themselves to fight their own battles, so they will their sons or _daughters_-" I give her a pointed look-"To do it for them."

She shakes her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "Mom never-"

"She may not have said it, Isabella. She most likely could never have brought herself to ask such a thing. But you knew what she needed. You did what you had to. He is gone and your mother is safe and grateful. She would never… _could _never be angry with you. You must know that."

She wipes tears from her cheeks and tries to look away again as she composes herself. "I never really thought about it that way."

I stroke her face and tilt her head so she's looking at me once more. "Most never do."

She's quiet, her pain reflected in her eyes, and I at least know what any child needs when they are hurting. What I myself might have needed once.

"Isabella…" I correct myself. "_Bella_... you need to go to your mother. And you need to let her be there for you now."

She knows it's true. She also appears to be devoid of the energy needed for more discussion on the topic so she leans forward and curls into me. I hold her, conflicted that she would turn to me for comfort when I'm the last being that she should be looking to for such things. But I hold her. Because it's where I always want her to be. In my arms.

And as we sit there, the two of us, broken things, my heart aches.

I don't deserve her.

"You're really good at this," she tells me as I stroke her hair.

But she's wrong.

"I'm good at nothing."

Isabella sits up and the worry is back in her eyes. "For someone who just very aptly made another someone see things so clearly for once in her life, you don't seem very pleased with yourself."

"You're not the only one with sins to atone for."

"Worse than murdering your abusive step-father?" She tries to joke. Classic Isabella. And I can't give her an answer that she would ever be okay with.

Because it's far worse.

"I escaped my prison. I've been running from it ever since. I don't want to run anymore."

I'm not sure I would call the expression on Isabella's face fear, but I do believe it's entwined in there somewhere. She refuses to let me hear it in her voice however.

"I don't care."

I stroke her jaw. "If only I thought that were true."

She places her hand over top of mine. "I want to know you, Edward. I want to know it all. Come over still? Please?"

Is this even a question she has to ask?

Anything. I would do anything for her.

"Shall I drive you-"

"No, no." She stops me. "I have to get my car home anyway, and you have stuff to finish up. I'll meet you back at my place. Soon. Okay?"

"I'm right behind you," I assure her as I slip a hand beneath her shirt.

She bats it away, but I can't stop the mischievous grin from spreading across my face as Isabella pulls the rest of her clothing on. When she hangs her purse over her shoulder and reaches for the door knob, she stops suddenly and turns back to me.

"Hades."

"Yes?" I respond without thinking, and suddenly, I am convinced my heart has stopped beating all together when I'm pulled back to this reality. My blood runs thin and fast through every vein in my body.

Did she just-

"Zeus's other brother," she adds. "His name was Hades, right?"

Air leaves me. Disappointment replaces the anxiousness. Because, _of course_.

I nod and am only able to let out the smallest of answers. "It was."

But still. That was my name she just spoke. And it was perfection.

Isabella smiles triumphantly that she's recalled some knowledge she most likely learned in school at some point. And then she places one last kiss against my lips before she leaves me there alone.

_So soft._

I place a hand against my chest to ensure my heart still thumps inside my chest. And it is, a million miles per second.

_Hades._

A smile plays at my lips as I take a beat to regain my composure. I relish in the fact that my name sounds as though it actually belongs here, coming from Isabella's lips.

Like _I _belong here.

I grab my keys from the desk and know, without any hesitation, that I will tell her tonight. Everything. I have to.

I spin to leave and follow her back to her apartment when -

"Beautiful story. Going somewhere, brother?"

I am once again forced to deal with Poseidon, and this time, my patience wears thin.

I chastise myself because how could I forget about him so quickly?

More importantly, how do I get rid of him?

_Now and forever._

I face him, stoic.

"Here to try and turn me against Isabella again, Poseidon?" I force a smile as I pull my jacket on, even though all I want to do is throttle him and be done with it.

"Is _that _her name?" He narrows his eyes at the ceiling. "_One who is pledged to God._" He quotes the meaning of her namesake and shrugs. "Or I suppose in this case, _a_ god."

I shouldn't let him get to me, but the way he mocks what I have found makes my blood boil.

"It's not going to work," I tell him adamantly. "Yes, she clearly did a terrible thing but for the right reasons. He deserved it. He-"

Poseidon laughs. "Since when does that matter to the Lord of the Underworld?"

But I do not find him amusing. "Since _now_."

"I see."

"I somehow doubt that." Poseidon never has been one for empathy. Perhaps his past is at fault for that. Perhaps he was born that way. To me, though, it doesn't matter.

Still, he is a persistent god.

"It's time to return home, Hades."

My jaw tightens. My patience wears thin. It appears the facade is over. And the ties I feel toward this place burst through my words. "This _is _my home, Poseidon."

A single eyebrow lifts but other than that, his expression does not change.

"Is it?"

I don't answer.

I'm not even entirely sure why I said what I said.

Nevertheless, I hold his stare. Because fuck him.

"Surely you knew you couldn't stay here and play house forever, brother."

Instead of toying with the idea that anything Poseidon says matters, regardless of whether it's true or not, I force him out of my way and stop at the door. I defy him _and _the rest of the gods sitting on their pompous thrones so far above everyone else.

"I'm not going home," I tell him. "And there's not a damn thing you can do about it. _Brother._"

I turn the knob to leave, but Poseidon has more to say. I'm not sure why I wait to hear it.

"A word of advice, Hades," he tells me. "Love makes you weak. It has been the Achilles' heel to many mortals. You remember Achilles, don't you? You may want to think twice about deciding to let those emotions of yours out of Pandora's Box."

What Poseidon misses, on most days, is the obvious.

I am not a mortal. But furthermore, loving Isabella is _not _a decision. What he's suggesting is that I don't bathe in the sunshine or breathe through my lungs.

It's not a choice; it's a necessity.

I make one last turn to grace him with a piece of my own advice. He simply throws me yet another of his evil sneers, then disappears.

I'm not given the chance to wonder what in Hell that was all about as I'm knocked to the ground by the door flying open and into me like, as Emmett might put it, a wall of bricks.

"Where'd he go? I fucking _heard _you talking to him." The wall of bricks himself hovers over me like a mountain of anger and confusion.

I push myself up off the floor, trying to understand what he's gotten so bent out of shape over this time. "Emmett. What in the-"

"Never mind, it's not important," he says as he takes one quick stride over to me before striking my jaw with his fist.

I double over and am surprised to see blood when I touch my finger to my lips.

I stand and face him.

And I know.

_Hell._ I know.

It's over.

He points a bitter index finger at me. "Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my best friend?"

I guess I should have expected this. Only I was too wrapped up in my feelings for Isabella to see it coming.

_Isabella_.

My mind mixes with so many thoughts I'm unable to think clearly.

"Answer me, asshole. Before I take you down in the worst possible way ever." He shakes his head. "I don't give a shit _what _you are."

I practically growl at the threat.

"Watch yourself, Emmett." I wipe the rest of the thick red liquid from my mouth with my sleeve and glare at him purposefully. "You don't know who you're dealing with."

"Then why don't you fucking enlighten me, asshole."

There's fury in his eyes, yes. But more than that, there's pain. Hurt. Betrayal. And suddenly, I'm tired. Of lying to him. To Isabella. To all of them.

My phone buzzes and I read the text.

It's Isabella again.

**Almost here?**

Not quite yet, I'm afraid.

In the end, to most, the truth is far less than fulfilling when it comes to who I am, where I'm from. What I do.

It will be less than satisfying for him to learn the nature of who he's called friend these past weeks.

I slip the cell phone into my pocket and decide it's best not to answer Isabella just yet. Not until I can make the issue before me right, at least. It shouldn't take long.

Then I nod to the vampire before me, resolved. And I place a hand on his shoulder so I may take him with me.

"Come along, Emmett," I tell him. "It would be easier if I show you."

* * *

**Song for this one = Shelter from the Storm by Bob Dylan. *sigh***

**GRATITUDE to Sue, Chrisann, and Marie for hand holding and wiping tears. You'll want to read Bella's side of this chapter. OMG. She kills my heart. KILLS IT.**

**Huge Hades-like thanks BTW to twilight fanfiction finders' Sue Gilreath for always mentioning these stories on FB & to The Lemonade Stand for rec'ing us this past week & to whoever voted Hades into the top 10 fic dives over at A Different Forest. *sunshine heart hands***

**And HEY (one more thing, I swearsies) - we've "vamped" up a new(ish) group on FB: "belladonna fictionfreaks" - the link is in my profile. We're doing teasers, talking about greek mythology (and Rob, and Tom Ellis) and trying to figure out how in Hell we're going to bring ourselves to stop writing about these characters. Come play.**


	17. Chapter 17 god of Hell

**Chapter 17. god of Hell**

I worry I've broken a vampire as we arrive at the edge of the Styx. Emmett's expression is that of shock. His stance is unstable at best, and his breathing is labored.

I may have given him too much to handle.

"The _fuck _is this place?" He shrugs out from under my grasp.

He's fine.

And so is the Styx. It's exactly as I left it - cold, dark, dismal. Uninviting. It's imbued with the looming despair that awaits one on the other side of the river.

_Home sweet home._

My travel companion's awestruck expression does not surprise me. Most humans have never seen the likes of my domain. Only the dead are allowed here. The living, and even vampires, have a difficult time coming to grips with what awaits them in the afterlife.

Something Prince got very wrong in some of his music.

It is not a world of never-ending happiness.

You can't ever the sun.

And you are definitely on your own.

I speak from an eternity of experience.

My thoughts drift to Isabella as I ponder the musician's lyrics.

_Bella._

I close my eyes and let the corners of my mouth tilt upward as I remember our short getaway to the ocean - the way her body glistened in the sunlight during the day and how it felt to have her hips move against mine at night.

I imagine her legs wrapped around me like they were just a short while ago.

I remember the way her lips traveled down my torso.

How her hands felt as they caressed-

"Hellooooooo."

My shoulders fall as I let out a defeated sigh. Emmett doesn't fit well into my fantasies of Isabella and my next visit into her bed. Or shower. Or lawn furniture. Perhaps all of the above.

And the rug.

As I glance down, I see a ring on my finger that had been missing since my visit above ground. It holds the family crest, so to speak, and it shouldn't surprise me. Being home would naturally mean I am once again… me. And besides, I would assume if I'm to give Emmett back to his friend, the vampire would be needing his own body once more.

Quite frankly, the absence of his will, somewhere deep within my psyche, is a welcome change.

I find the surge of power resulting in my return to be unexpectedly exhilarating.

As I breathe in the familiarity of my domain, I sense movements, whispers. I feel the crackle of souls who know their master has returned and the slight increase in fear they experience because of it.

And it is divine.

Emmett is a bit agitated now at the difference in whom he _thought _he was traveling with and who he has ended up with.

I can't say I blame him.

"What the fuck are you, man?" he asks, one part frightened, two parts genuinely inquisitive. "Chameleon?" he guesses. "Shapeshifter?" He feels that second option makes the most sense and leans in as though no one else here might hear him if he whispers. "Are you a fucking shapeshifter?"

I grimace.

Shapeshifter is a low blow. He's angry. He's insulting me. I get it.

"No, Emmett," I tell him. "I'm…" I should probably handle this delicately. Right?

Deep breaths.

"I'm Hades and this is the underworld." I shrug. "Hell, if you prefer. More specifically, the boundary between your Earth and Hell." I wave a hand out before us. "Welcome to the Styx."

When I finish my introduction, Emmett goes momentarily statuesque and slightly more pale than normal.

"You're-"

"Hades."

He looks around but only with his eyes. "And this is-"

Long story short. "Hell."

A flash of another possible scenario passes, and I imagine having this conversation with Isabella. I see her eyes grow as Emmett's do when she hears my true identity. I hear her gasp. I watch her run away.

But will she? After everything?

"Fuck me," floats from Emmett's lips and as he collapses backwards. I flit a chair behind him so he doesn't fall on his ass. It's the least I can do.

Perhaps I gave him too much too soon, but time is of the essence. I have a dinner with Isabella to get to.

He's staring at the floor, and when I begin to tap my foot, he looks up at me again.

"You sure you're not a chameleon?"

I raise a half amused, half offended eyebrow at him and he nods. Then his initial reaction to me from up in my office returns.

"So, you what, took over Ed's body? Were you possessing him or some shit? Where is he now?" He stands, ready to take on the role of a supernatural hunter of some type, and I hold a hand up to him.

"He's fine, Emmett. I simply moved his soul from one place to another. For a while."

Although thinking back, I hadn't exactly worked out the logistics of the long-term effects of that decision.

"A while? So you could screw around with Bella?" His jaw clenches. He practically bares his teeth.

"What? No, that was never my intention-"

"But that's how it went down, nonetheless. Asshole."

In short, I answer, "Yes." Emmett doesn't understand the road I've taken to Isabella. He doesn't understand the risks I've taken.

"Emmett," I begin to explain again but he's already coming for me. And I don't have time for this. I tilt my head, just a bit, and he's still as can be, unable to speak or move, much less attack me.

This is _my _kingdom after all. He needs to understand that.

I stalk toward him, slowly, so as not to make him defensive.

"I don't want to hurt you, Emmett, but make no mistake, if you force my hand, I will."

He rolls his eyes. It's really all he can do. But it's enough to suggest he needs a bit more warning.

I flick my wrist. Not enough to truly send him into a crippling spiral of pain and torment, but just enough to make him a tad uncomfortable.

And send him a message.

His eyes slam shut and his body jerks. He lets out a muffled grunt of pain. It's over as quickly as it began, and this time, when he opens his eyes, he gets it.

"I regret what I've done," I tell him. "I didn't understand. I do now. Can you say the same?"

I wait, expressionless until he finally gives me an angry nod.

"What's done is done, Emmett, but that's why we're here. To make it right."

He breathes in and sighs heavily. Relieved perhaps. Maybe tired. Of everything. But I release him, nonetheless. He stumbles but catches his balance again quickly.

"You're still a fucking jackass," he mutters, unwilling to really give it his all.

"Agreed." I allow him the exasperation.

"And that was a dick move, by the way."

"Yes." But he's pushing it.

"You're -"

"We get it, Emmett. I'm a dick. Can we move on now? Or would you like your precious vampire to stay here longer than necessary?"

For the love of Satan.

"I _knew _you were acting fucking weird lately. Edward was, I mean, you… I don't know but somebody was acting fucking weird."

I shake my head as I check the timepiece on my wrist. The hands have stopped spinning. It's only then that I remember earthly things don't work quite right here in the underworld. They have no need to. So when I pull the cell phone out of my pocket and get nothing but a blank screen, that shouldn't disappoint me, but it does.

I'm edgy, suddenly wanting to text Isabella and let her know I'll be there soon.

"And how does she feel about all this?"

Emmett's words pull me out of my thoughts. "What?"

"Bella. You told her, I assume."

I don't answer him. He's too much like my brother right now. He's arrogant and a bit too sarcastic for my taste at the moment.

"Of course you didn't." He lets out a sarcastic huff and rolls his eyes. "Jackass."

I take it back, he's much worse than my brother.

As the god of Hell, I really should smite him for his lack of respect. Not too long ago, I would have without a doubt but now… how can I? He's absolutely right.

Emmett shivers a bit. Even for vampires, the underworld is quite uncomfortable and I too, admittedly, find that I miss the sunshine. More specifically, I miss the warmth that Isabella brings with her everywhere. The brightness of her smile. The softness of her touch. The promise of her kiss.

_I love you,_ she'd said.

Would she still? When she finds I am no longer the man she thought I was?

"Why'd you do it?" Emmett asks, once again disrupting my angst.

"What?"

"I mean, why now? Why Edward? Why-"

I spin to face him, because really. "Do you see where we are, Emmett? Do you see the despair around you? Feel the sorrow tugging at your will? Do you hear the cries of the dead and tormented? And we haven't even entered the worst parts of this place yet. I've spent eternities here." He holds my glare and I do not waver either. "You should be asking me why not sooner."

I continue to lead him to the boat that usually awaits the dead.

"As far as your friend goes-" I hesitate. Guilt spreads through me like a virus. "I made a judgement call. It was wrong."

Emmett spits out a bitter laugh as he scutters away from something grasping for his ankle. "Ya got that right at least."

The ferryman gives me a curious look as we board. He most likely hadn't noticed I'd gone at all. He's fairly oblivious to anything other than the route to my domain and the one back here, where he waits for his next passenger.

It's a quiet glide across the water. I tend not to stare into it, myself. There are things there I don't care to see and some of them will snare you into their grips if you're not careful.

Something Emmett is about to experience when I snatch him back from the edge of the boat.

He shakes his head as though he's been entranced. "You'll want to focus on the land before us, Emmett." I glance at the creature descending beneath the surface once more. "If you fall in, I will not be able to save you."

He shivers as though coming out of a fog and then nods in understanding. "Thanks."

I don't let him see the satisfaction that his gratitude brings out. We're not here to bond, after all. We're here to retrieve his true friend. Something I will never be to him.

The nearer we get to the other side of The Styx, the more clearly I see who awaits us there.

"Won't be long now," I assure Emmett quietly. I cannot say I'm looking forward to the reunion awaiting me based on her expression.

"What the hell is _that_?" Emmett asks when he sees her as well. Her three heads search the river around her for threats.

"That, Emmett, is someone you do not want to trifle with."

"Hecate." I nod as we exit the boat. She shoots daggers at me with her glare as she pets my hound, protectively.

A part of me knew she would not take kindly to watching over my things while I was away. Hecate is a guardian of entrance ways, a goddess of witchcraft. She's not a ruler of the underworld. I thought I was giving her something more interesting to do while I was gone. Clearly, she's already bored with what I've given her.

"Exactly how long were you planning to leave me in charge while you're off playing, Hades? I have things to do. Places to bless, people to -"

"Curse, yes, I know." I wave a hand.

She notices Emmett and snarls. "And what is this _thing_ doing here?"

He growls and takes a defensive step toward her. "Hey now."

I put myself between them. "This is a friend, Hecate. We're here to retrieve something and then-"

She stops me, mid-stride. "That's highly irregular, Hades." Her voice is curious but suspicious as well. "Since when do you bring the un-dead here?"

"Since this is _my _kingdom and I do as I please," I remind her. "Now leave us be. I'll return shortly."

She eyes me carefully and mulls over what I've said. "And _then _I may go?"

"Not quite."

Her face contorts into animosity. "But-"

We're already further away now. Far enough that I don't hear the rest of Hecate's whine. I don't know how to answer her, in any event. It can wait. I hope.

"Strange," I muse as we near the caves where I placed the vampire.

"Strange as in, ha-ha? Or…" Emmett ducks to avoid webs and creatures as we enter the mountain's hollowed out corner where Edward Cullen _should _be.

I notice what I already sensed but thought, somehow, I was mistaken.

I know he at least _has been_ here. And didn't leave too long ago. My question is, how did he leave if I didn't allow it to happen?

I rub at my jaw and Emmett chimes in. "So, you lost him." He chuckles, amused that his friend somehow found his way out of my grasp. "You lost my best friend."

He doesn't understand the gravity of this situation. If the vampire is off on his own, here, in the underworld, he may not survive it.

Not alone.

I walk away and try to think of the best places to search for him before he gets himself into trouble, and Emmett trails behind me.

"I don't get it. Why wouldn't he _be _here if you _put _him here? And by the way, why the _fuck _would you put him there?"

Absentmindedly, I answer, "At the time, I thought he was-"

"A murderer?"

Emmett's response pulls me back to the present. "Quite frankly, yes."

"Yeah, well, ya got that one wrong, didn't you jackhole?"

I stand my ground. "Even if he weren't, or isn't currently, that doesn't mean he didn't deserve to-"

He shakes his head. "People in glass houses…" he mumbles.

"What was that?"

He cups his hands to his mouth. "You're a hypocrite, asshole."

I breathe out. I take a moment to regain my composure. And I realize I truly don't have an argument, any argument, that would justify my actions. And yet, I don't regret them. How could I? They gave me Isabella.

They gave me experiences I never would have known.

They gave me love.

And so much more.

"_Edward, sometimes, I swear, it's like you're a different person all of a sudden."_

"_Perhaps I am."_

"_Since when?"_

"_Since you."_

Memories of conversations with Isabella cause me to ask myself again… what happens when I do find the vampire?

"Okay." Emmett transitions from concerned friend to project manager in the blink of an eye. "Let's assume he was somehow able to free himself from _this _fucking place. Where would he go?"

I sigh but have to confess that being home again is like an old worn glove. Although I feel the doom, sense the despair, and hear the cries of the deceased, I _cannot _feel the vampire's presence who's been haunting my mind for the past weeks. So I start with the obvious.

"There's Tartarus." My eyes drift off into the distance, and I can sense the misery there like it's my own. I suppose he could be there, although I don't know why he would wander so far off. Or have any interest in visiting the creatures there.

"The Asphodel Meadows would never accept him. I doubt very highly he's there," I muse.

"And that's because…?" Emmett inquires, crossing his arms, judgmentally.

"I would not call the past actions of your friend _insignificant_, Emmett. Good or bad, Edward Cullen does not belong with the mundane."

He lifts an eyebrow and I wonder what he's thinking. Surprised, perhaps, that I seem to have an awareness of his friend he hadn't anticipated.

I'd love to tell him the experiences the vampire and I have been having since day one. Since time is of the essence, I move on with the next possibility of his whereabouts.

"There's always the Mourning Fields."

"What are those?"

"It's where souls go to continue wasting their existences away on unrequited love."

Emmett laughs. "Yeah, that's a hard no then."

"Why is that?" I wonder as a strained cry of anguish rings out that only the god of Hell can hear. I focus back onto present matters.

"He'd have to actually have loved someone to have it be unrequited, right?"

Is he saying…? "You mean he never-"

Emmett shakes his head as a scream of terror sounds somewhere off in the distance. "Not once since I've known him. And before that, he wasn't old enough to know what real love even is."

To have lived as long as these creatures have and never felt love… the vampire and I are more alike than I assumed.

"Anywhere else?" he asks. And yes, there is.

"Elysium but…" The painful sobs of the mournful grow louder now. "No."

"Why?"

"It's reserved for demi-gods and saints." Sounds begin to jumble together. The howls of the dead are much like Isabella's hounds when she arrives for their outings. They all scramble for her attention, fighting their way to the front.

I haven't the time nor patience for it. I jerk my head just so to make it stop as Emmett lets himself laugh at the thought of his friend the vampire being hailed a saint. "Okay then. Not so much. Anywhere el-"

"No," I cut him off a bit too readily.

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Emmett, unless your vampire friend has been re-born, he wouldn't even know the way to the Isle of the Blessed."

Emmett's eyes search the space around him for an answer. Any answer. And then I decide for the both of us.

"Let's begin with Tartarus. Perhaps his curiosity got the better of him."

Although, let's hope not.

And as we start on our way, Emmett tells me, "We know what it's like, you know."

"What's that, Emmett?" I flick brimstone out of our way as we walk. It reminds me of Isabella's green juice.

"Being alone. For an eternity."

And I nod. Because I imagine they do. Although admittedly, I was beginning to think it doesn't have to be that way for me.

_I love you._

"What the fuck?" he calls out as he jumps away from something beside us on the trail of dirt and fire.

I wave a hand. "It's just Eurynomos."

"What the hell is he eating?" His face contorts into disgust.

"The flesh of corpses." I eye him sideways and fight the amusement I feel that this larger than life vampire is afraid of one measly demon. "Don't worry, Emmett. He won't bother you. You're not dead. Technically."

My companion visibly shivers and walks a few steps closer to me as we go on our way. "This place is sincerely fucked up."

He's not wrong. "Tell me about it."

xXxXx

When the Styx is far behind us and we are well on our way to Tartarus, I hear the faint familiar whispers of a certain trio of madness. I purse my lips and grind my teeth at their never-ending divisiveness.

_The furies._

I sigh. They are goddesses, yes, or at least they were, once. They are mostly vengeful and full of spite these days, constantly plotting to drive the souls mad of those who "deserve" it. Granted, that's their job. I myself have relished in their assistance in the past, but today, I don't have time for their puzzles and schemes.

Laughter screeches from their small circle of conspiracy.

"Careful, careful, be precise." I hear one's gruff voice from just beside us now.

"My turn!" another argues. I have to admit, I'm curious as to what they're plotting. _Or who _it's about.

Emmett moves himself to my other side, the one furthest from the old crones. I grin. It doesn't hurt for him to realize where he is.

"This one is so much fun!" their leader cackles.

"Added bonus," one coughs out as she laughs. I roll my eyes at them as we begin to pass them by.

Until I hear the rest of her claim.

"_Heee_ won't be able to do a thing about it!" The three of them let out a high-pitched snigger in unison with a creepy undertone. Something about the way she sings the word "heeee" tells me to stop and inquire within.

Because, clearly, they are referring to me.

"What are the three of you up to?" They stop mid-chuckle for a beat or two, eyes darting to and from one another, then they simply choose to ignore me and continue on with their plotting.

"Wouldn't you like to know!" one cackles. Laughter from the trio makes my spine grow cold.

I take a deep breath in, angry now at their disrespectfulness. I stretch and hover over them, zeroing in on the most vengeful of the group. My voice booms as a loudspeaker might in a crowded hall. "I asked you a question, Tisiphone."

She recoils as my voice echoes against the fire covered mountains, but only a little. Only enough to make herself appear polite. And that's when a small pinprick of awareness hits me. And I realize, I don't need an answer. It's written all over her face. All over the three of their faces.

It should have crossed my mind sooner, but I was too preoccupied with finding the vampire and now it may be too late.

The furies don't simply cause havoc, you see. They drive insane those who commit the most heinous of crimes.

Including, but not limited to, _patricide_.

I give the old hag a grave and threatening look. "You will not harm her, Tisiphone. And neither will your cohorts."

She's visibly glad that I'm playing her game now. She gives me a smug grin and locks arms with her sisters. "We must, my lord," she says in mocking graciousness. "it's our job, my lord, and you can't tell us otherwi-."

"Can't I?" I look around us as my heart rate increases. "You're in my dominion, after all."

Slowly her arms loosen from her grip on the other two. Her blood shot eyes become slits and her black bat like wings ruffle. "What are you getting at, god?"

"It's my job," I tell her. "No, it's my _responsibility _to ensure the creatures of this world follow certain rules, is it not?"

_Come now. Fall into my trap, little bird._

"What rules?" She's visibly angry now although she tries very hard to hide it. She knows deep down where this must be going, but she can't quite put her long, crooked finger on it yet.

"Isabella has not fallen into the circle of humans that you have power over."

She tilts her head. "Hasn't she?" She tilts her head upward and breathes in the air. "She _murdered_."

"Murdered!" The other two sound off as though making a point.

"And he-"

"But he wasn't actually her father though, now was he?" I point out.

Three blank faces stare up at me.

Loopholes.

Every time.

They know I have them.

"But he was-"

"But _nothing_, whore," I cut her off with a bitter warning. "She did nothing the son of Zeus wouldn't have."

"But she's not a-"

"She's off limits," I remind her. "And that, as they say, is that. Do you understand?"

They say nothing. But I can tell they're thinking as they each share silent looks with one another. Which is never good.

As I hesitantly back away, truly believing my instructions are enough, I soon realize they apparently have _not _learned their lesson just yet.

"She stole citrus!" Megaera, punisher of theft, chimes in, pointing to the heavens as though taking lemons from a grocer is cause for the death penalty.

It's all relative, in actuality.

"Aye," Alecto adds. She tortures humans for their moral crimes. "And oh, how angry she was when she pulled that trigger, your _highness._"

I consider Emmett, who appears a bit concerned, but not enough to step in on this conversation. _Not that I can blame him. _Then I close in on the three witches, virtually strangling them as a reminder of what could befall them if they choose to defy me.

"Let me make something extremely clear for the three of you," I tell them as I stalk closer. My voice becomes a rumble of terror that reflects in their eyes.

They attempt to stumble away, but they will not escape my wrath if it becomes a necessity.

"If I sense any one of the three of you _looking _in her direction, _whispering _her name, or merely _thinking _about Isabella, you will find yourselves in the furthest corners of the darkest pits of this world. You will hear nothing. You will taste nothing. You will _see _nothing but horror. You will only feel the stinging blade of my bident searing through your bodies for the entirety of the remainder of your existence. _Do you understand me_?"

They don't reply. They don't blink. They don't breathe.

"Answer me!"

They nod in fear. Tisiphone is the only one courageous enough to speak.

"C-consider it so, my lord." She doesn't look me in the eye and her compliance is sincere this time.

My blood slows and my breathing becomes easier as I realize I have no need to question or threaten them further.

Isabella is safe.

_I love you._

Emmett skips a beat before hurrying to catch up with me.

"Wow," he says when we're far enough away that he feels it's okay to speak again.

"What?" I ask as I keep a keen eye on the rest of the creatures stirring within the underworld and work to regain my composure.

"I mean, aside from the fact that I think I just pissed my pants back there, I actually got the impression you give a shit about Bella."

He seems surprised by this revelation. I would have thought it was obvious.

"She's the only thing that matters, Emmett. I would destroy entire universes to make sure she is guarded from the likes of those three, and worse."

"I know," he says quietly, as though he's contemplating if I would consider myself worse.

And I do.

xXxXx

"I don't understand," I say, mostly to myself, after we exhaust every square inch of hell looking for this confounded vampire.

"Is it possible he-"

"He does not have the ability to leave this place on his own, Emmett. He may have found a way out of his cell, but-"

"Who's … _he_, Hades?" Hecate asks as we arrive back at the Styx to regroup. Apparently, she's been snooping in on conversations that are none of her business.

I sigh, agitated, and pinch the bridge of my nose before answering.

"No one of consequence, Hecate. A vampire that I-"

"You mean the attractive one with the sad eyes and brooding stare? The one I thought about comforting myself, this past week?"

Emmett laughs. "That's him."

"You should have asked me from the get-go, Hades." She pets Cerberus and shoots me a smug grin. I hope she doesn't think she's taking my hound with her when she leaves.

_If_ she leaves.

"I'm asking now, Hecate," I tell her, agitated. "What do you know?"

"He _took _the vampire," she says, unwilling to offer anything else at first. She wants me to work for it now. I suppose I have no choice.

"Who-"

"What the fuck, dude?" Emmett's anger is returning, and I fear if he uses air quotes at any point, he and Hecate will be having a death match.

She really can't stand vampires. Or air quotes.

I hold a hand up to him to quiet his rage and he obliges for the moment.

"Hecate. Who took the vampire?"

She doesn't answer for a moment. She's busy eyeing Emmett.

"Hecate," I push, but not too much. She's not like the crones, this one. I know my limits with her.

She smirks in the end. Happy that she's pushed my buttons.

"Poseidon."

I blink and Emmett leans in just a bit. "I'm sorry, did she just say Poseidon?"

Is he deaf now? "Yes, Emmett," I tell him as I try and piece together how this escaped my notice.

"King of the sea?"

"Correct." And when.

"Are you gonna tell me Zeus exists too, or...?"

I look him in the eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "I wish I could tell you otherwise."

xXxXx

"Greek gods." Emmett huffs in understanding that there are things, even beyond his awareness, that exist.

I eye him for the tenth time in as many minutes as I pace, thinking how this could have happened under my nose.

Emmett needs to move on.

"I don't get it," he ponders. "Why would he care about some dumb ass vampire? We're nothing to you people, gods, whatever. How would Ed even be on his radar?"

I hate to say it. "I believe I have a feeling I know why."

"You gonna share? I mean, the sooner we can figure this shit out, the sooner we can find him, right?"

"He loved someone once." I pause and then correct myself. "He's loved _many _in more recent centuries, but this one was different. It was before it was accepted that gods slept with the likes of humans."

"Sounds familiar," Emmett muses.

I roll my eyes because it's not on any level the same as what his species deals with.

"Poseidon hid it well. For a time. But then she had a son. Had our brother found out, he would have destroyed the babe. Possibly even the lover."

"So, what? Was it against some law or something?" He's confused gods with vampires, poor thing.

I shake my head. "Zeus felt he was the only one allowed to sire bastards since he is the king of the skies" I feel my eyes roll. This story is so old and so petty.

Emmett snorts, disgusted and yet amused. I continue the story.

"So Poseidon hid them away, never to see her or the child again."

"Dang. That's actually kinda sad," he muses. And I would have agreed, tens of thousands of years ago, but now…

"Only he screwed up. He couldn't help himself. He _had _to see his son - what he'd made. The beauty of it. He's selfish after all. And egotistical. So Zeus destroyed them all."

"He-"

"Obliterated a woman and child." I stare off at nothing. I still hear their cries for mercy.

"Fucking A, man. So this Poseidon a-hole is jealous of you, or is this some kind of morbid version of _Pay it Forward_ that only _gods _play?"

I nod. "Something like that, I'm sure. He's as much as warned me several times since I've been with Isabella. I should have sensed he would do something like-"

"Hold up," he stops me, as he just now realizes who. "The big guy?"

I nod and he growls. "The one that flicked me?"

I nod again as Emmett internalizes the fury he feels about me leaving him defenseless the other night. Then something else hits him.

"So - you don't have a gambling problem."

"No, Emmett. I do not have a gambling problem." I can't help but grin as he puts the puzzle pieces together.

Once he has, he gives me something of a sympathetic nod. "No offense, but your family is jacked _up_, dude."

"Yeah." He has no idea.

xXxXx

Above ground, the cell phone in my pocket begins to buzz incessantly. When I pull it out, I find that Isabella has indeed been trying to get ahold of me.

_I love you._

Emmett takes a deep breath in and holds it for a while before letting it out again. "Fuck it feels good to breathe fresh air again," he says. "Where to now?"

"I don't sense him here either," I tell him. "And he would never be allowed inside Mount Olympus."

I grow more and more annoyed with Poseidon for being such a dick… and so petty. I'm also concerned for the vampire.

"So where would he-"

"Underwater is my best guess. That's where Poseidon rules. He has power there, much more than he would on land." It makes sense. But where? The ocean is vast. I don't have a lot of time here.

Emmett nods. "Well, then we better figure this shit out soon." He starts to head toward a car, parked at the rear of the parking lot.

"Where are you going?"

"To try and track my friend down.". I feel a strong urge to make things right between us. To _try_ to anyway. Oddly enough, he's become a trusted ally. To me, at least.

"Emmett." My voice feels like it wants to fail. But I owe him this.

He turns halfway. He doesn't look at me, just the sky. It's as though he can't stand to look me in the eyes for whatever is coming next.

"I'm sorry for-"

"Save it." He glances in my direction, pressing his lips together. "I'll let you know if I find anything." With that he's gone, into his vehicle, and down the road before I can take another breath.

It's just as well, I decide. Because here, outside, alone, in the dark, comfort finds me, strangely enough. And it is here in the dismal abyss that I check every message I've received from Isabella.

There's the first one I received back before I took Emmett on our little trip. The text.

**Almost here?**

I wish I had gone to her instead. I wish I had simply forgotten about the vampire in my domain and stolen Isabella away, whether she was ready to or not. Maybe then… but no.

There is a red circle on the phone icon. My thoughts are forgotten as I struggle with the device, but I'm finally able to play a message she apparently left for me.

"_Hi, Edward." _Her voice is a song I feel I haven't heard in a thousand years. "_Where'd you disappear to? Something happened here at my place and you're gone. Call me when you get this? Or just show up on my doorstep. I'd give anything to have you stalking me right now. I'm a little scared. And Edward, I love you."_

Worry creeps up inside me at her words. I pull the phone away from my ear and notice another text that I hadn't before.

_**I wish you were here to hold me**_

_**Are you having doubts?**_

_**Are you afraid to talk to me like I talked to you?**_

_**Nothing could change how I feel about you**_

_**I promise**_

_**Come to me**_

_**Call me?**_

_**I love you**_

_**I know it's only been a couple of days**_

_**and maybe it's crazy**_

_**but I think I always will.**_

I trace the words.

_I love you._

My chest aches. I despise that she's spent the majority of the evening questioning how I feel about her. Or that I would even consider running away.

I hate that it's me who's invoked this concern in her.

I find her number and press the call button on the phone. When I hear her voice, I smile.

"Isabella, I-"

"_Thanks for calling! I'm clearly unavailable but leave a message and I'll call you back!"_

It's not her. It's merely a recording of some sort. I waste no time in heading straight for her apartment, thinking of the last things we said to each other on that fucking rug in my fucking office. When she asked me how many there had been before her.

"_I've never loved anyone before, Bella," I told her as I slid a hand between her legs. "Never." I pressed my lips against her neck, leaving goose flesh in my wake. "You're my first." I found the corner of her mouth. "My only," I admitted when I gazed into her eyes._

_And then I savored her own confession as she whispered breathlessly, "I've never said it to anyone else, either."_

A shaky breath leaves me as I take a moment to focus on her voice, exiting the car at Isabella's apartment.

_I love you._

I take a tentative step toward telling Isabella everything but am stopped short when I notice a figure lurking near the building entrance - only they're not on the steps, they're in the bushes beside it. And I am taken back to my conversation with the crones from the underworld.

Surely, they would not disobey me after the consequences were so very clearly laid out before them.

Or is it Poseidon, looking to steal her away as well?

Because that's not going to happen.

I won't give him the satisfaction of turning my plans upside down.

Quietly, I sidle up behind whoever is hiding in the thorny brush. The closer I get, the more I realize it cannot be my brother. This person is too plump and… tiny. He's gruff and unkempt. Poseidon would never want to come across as anything but clean cut and powerful. And he would never cower like that.

I grab the human by his collar and hold him up for inspection with a curious glare.

"Who are you?" He smells like alcohol. It seeps from his pores. I hold him a bit further away.

"Dude, chill." He tries to wriggle out of my grasp, sloppily, but it's all for naught. "I'm just looking for someone." He swings his body and flails. "They live in this building."

He grunts and struggles, and I narrow my eyes before dropping him back down to the ground. As he lands, something falls from his grasp and clanks against the concrete sidewalk. I'm getting the most disturbing sense from him.

"Are they not home?" I ask him, interested in his reasons for hiding in the dark. "Why wouldn't you simply knock on their door?"

"I-I don't know, I just-" He shrugs at the building.

I cross my arms and peer at him skeptically. "Well perhaps I know them."

He bends down and retrieves his lost item, hiding it behind his back as though he's afraid I'll steal it. As though I have a need for such things.

He straightens his shirt but keeps an eye on me while he does it. He cracks his neck, readying for a fight if need be.

With me.

I laugh.

"She's not exactly the type to go around introducing herself to people," he tells me as he struggles with the iron item he holds.

_She_.

Now that indeed grabs my attention even more.

"You never know, do you?" I wave a hand at him. "Come, try me."

"Oh," he stammers. "Well, sure. I mean, she's about-" he holds a hand up-"This high. L-long brown hair. Brown eyes. Pretty vanilla."

"Vanilla?" Odd word to describe a human. They certainly don't taste like vanilla. At least Isabella doesn't. She's much sweeter and much more addictive.

"Yeah, you know, plain. Nothing to sneeze at."

I bite my lip a tad and nod.

"Her name?"

"What?"

"I could pass it along to the other people living in this domicile," I offer. "Perhaps _they've _seen her."

"Um." He's not sure he should.

"Come now," I tell him with a slight grin that manipulates him as only the god of hell could. "What can it hurt to have more people helping you find this girl?

"It's um-" He seems hesitant to tell me. Perhaps he senses danger, himself.

"Spit it out."

"Bella?" he finally says and clears his throat. "Bella Swan? But she might be going by another name. Higginbotham, or . . . Dwyer? I'm really not sure…"

He prattles on a bit more, but my heart sank as soon as he said her name, confirming my fears.

_Bella_. There is no other Bella who lives here. I know that much.

_I love you,_ I hear her saying for the umpteenth time this evening.

_You will not harm her, _I hear _myself _repeating somewhere inside my mind. It's a now routine urge to protect her from whatever dangers loom.

Why is he searching her out? With a pistol of some sort, at that?

He's been wisely backing away this entire time, however, I have also been stalking toward him. He won't be escaping this conversation now.

"What do you want with Isabella?" I glower. His eyes grow big as my height grows slightly. The rage inside me starts to multiply.

"Isa- wait, you know her?"

I nod. "I do. But that doesn't answer my question, does it, human?"

He shakes his head rapidly and reaches for the revolver he's been trying to hide. I flick a hand and it flies from his grasp.

"What the-"

"I'll only ask you one more time. What. Do. You. Want. With. Her?"

Isabella's eyes flash before me, filled with love, trust, _honesty._

I'm upon him now. He's more than afraid. He's terrified and searching for a way out of this predicament, but that won't be happening.

_You will not hurt her._

"Answer me!"

"Okay!" He jumps and screams. "She killed my dad, alright?" He cowers and I am suddenly startled into ceasing my advance.

His father.

Bella's step-father.

The abusive husband and insolent guardian.

"You're related to the evildoer?"

I hear Isabella's word inside my mind.

_She was never going to leave him. I couldn't lose her too._

_I shot him. In cold blood._

"I just want her to answer for what she did, man." His voice shakes with the knowledge of what is about to befall him. "He didn't deserve it," he cries. "He was a good dad. I just- fuck. What the hell are you?"

_And I liked it._

I tower over him now, with all my power. I let him see who he's encountered in the dark here, on the streets of the woman he plans to attack.

And I give him a cold smile.

"I am Hades, Jacob. Ruler of the underworld and overseer of the dead," I inform him calmly. His face is red with worry and his eyes water with tears that are far too late to shed.

"But I am also Orcus," I add. "The killer. And it is time for you to die."

He starts to scream as I snap a finger, but it's over as quickly as I thought it. I let out a sigh of relief and satisfaction. He is no longer a threat to Isabella and he no longer needs to search for vengeance against the murderer of his father.

As he lay on the pavement, blood dripping from his nose and ears, his eyes glaze over with death. I watch him, content that I've saved Isabella from not one but _two_ fates worse than death this evening.

And I like it.

"Good luck, Jacob," I tell him, knowing where his soul is headed.

A scream pulls me from feeling justified in my actions, and I look up to see a small girl in a window up above, howling with terror at what has just taken place before her. Her horror jolts me into a sudden realization and I also hear the sounds of a certain vampire calling out from his new prison.

I can't understand why I wasn't able to reach out sooner, but nonetheless, I hear him now. And with a blink, I'm gone from Isabella's home and I'm with the vampire.

There's a disturbing irony in why Poseidon has trapped him here.

I stand on the bow of a sailboat, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and we're in the midst of a storm that doesn't exist to the human eye. There he is, laboring to keep control of his boat and his wits.

I watch him fight to steer the vessel as he stands opposite me.

He's lost. And that's new to him. He doesn't understand why he can't quite grasp his whereabouts. Why he cannot see the stars. Why his technology refuses to work properly. Why his strength fails him.

He's disheveled. Tired. Exhausted even. He looks as though he's been here for months, and yet I know it's only been at the most a day.

He turns to fight with the sails once more when he notices he's not alone.

And then he sees me.

He turns and faces me as I watch him carefully, fully aware that finding him means I will need to find a way to exist in my own skin. And what that may mean for Isabella and me.

The vampire gives me a bewildered stare through rain and wind. He appears to recognize me, but he's not entirely sure why. I give him a half smile as I nod to him.

"Hello, Edward."

* * *

**PSA: Songs are Let's go Crazy by Prince (mention) and - River By Leon Bridges**

**I swore this story would only have short chapters when I started. Apparently, that's out the window. Apologies for the long-winded trip to hell this week. Sue's beta skills are satan-sent. Chrisann's thoughts on this guy make me smile like a loon. And belladonnacullen forces me to (try and) keep up with her fantastic skills at the written word. THANK YOU as always, for reading this story. I am super grateful you're taking the time.**


	18. Chapter 18 Possum King

**Chapter 18. Possum King**

"I know you." Edward Cullen loses his balance momentarily and puts great effort into gripping the ropes that hold his sails up high. His body swings, and he loses sight of me as he struggles to remain upright. Once he's settled again, his eyes dart from spot to spot on the deck, searching as though he thinks I've disappeared. He looks relieved when he finds me again."

I can't imagine what things have been tormenting him for the past weeks.

Then again, yes, I can.

"You do," I confirm as shame creeps up inside my bones, knowing I've put him in this predicament.

He looks around, befuddled. "How did you-"

"Now is not the time, vampire. We've got to go." I begin making my way toward him as lightning slams into the sea around us and thunder rolls loudly through the thick clouds above.

"I've been trying. This storm is-"

With a touch of his arm and a thought in my head we are out of the grips of Poseidon's domain and back in the safety of my office, inside the walls of the Brick and Mortar.

No, that's wrong isn't it? It's _his office._

The vampire is disoriented. I'm not sure he's convinced we're back on solid ground. Regardless, he does appear to be comforted by the fact that he's in the familiarity of his own surroundings once again.

Before I can begin to explain what's happening, he throws his arms around me, and I'm locked in his grasp for a minute… or two.

It's a very long time.

"Is this real?" he asks, holding me tight. And honestly? I'm not so sure but...

"It is," I promise, hesitant and wondering what he thinks he's doing exactly, hugging the god of Hell.

After burying his head in my shoulder for a few more moments, he breathes out. He loosens his grip and peers around at his belongings to make sure he's actual where he thinks he is.

To be honest, he's still a bit shaken when he tells me, "That's for coming to get me."

And I nod apprehensively. Not what I was expecting from a vampire who's been holed up in Hell for… well, any period of time.

"I don't understand any of this," he says. When he peers into my eyes, he struggles to clear his mind as though coming out of a fog. "I know you, right?" he says again, trying to recollect where and why.

I don't answer this time. He'll get there.

He searches his memories, pushing through a vast many other until finally…

"We met outside."

"Yes."

"You asked me if I was lost."

"That's correct."

"But we're not friends," he states, sounding almost disappointed.

_He's _still uncertain, but I'm not. "I wouldn't say that."

After all, we've shared thoughts and a will, he and I. We've fought dark urges together and conquered them.

His face turns grave as he recalls what came next, and within seconds, it all passes through his mind as though in fast-forward. His expression changes from disoriented and confused to furious.

He's a blur of movement. The next thing I know, I'm cold cocked by a vampire for the second time in my existence.

I seethe as I lick my lip and taste the blood.

"And that's for taking something that doesn't _fucking _belong to you." His face is strained and red, and his teeth are clenched. His eyes are dark. And yet, his expression says he's not happy he's lost his temper.

I give him a warning glare. Admittedly, it doesn't carry the full force of who I am exactly, or what I could do to him. It's more of a _please stop agitating the god of Hell_ kind of look.

"I'm going to forgive that one," I advise him as he stands before me, angry yet exhausted. He simply doesn't have it in him to go toe to toe with a god. It's a good thing; I'm all out of free passes on sucker punches.

"Fair enough," he says, giving his hand a few waves in front of him to shake the pain away. As quickly as it appeared, his expression transforms from anger into fatigue. He lets himself fall into the comfortable chair Isabella has curled up in quite a few times.

He leans back and closes his eyes, rubbing at them. He lets out a breath of air.

"I need a nap."

And I'm confused. "I was under the impression that vampires don't sleep."

He pulls his hands away from his face, and his brow dips. "Welcome to the party, Captain Obvious. It was a metaphor."

He jerks his head as though he's just now thought of something important, and then he pushes himself up out of the recliner.

"It's Hades, actually." Strange creature.

"I know who you are." He pulls a door open that leads to a private restroom.

And I'm surprised. Which doesn't happen often. "You-"

"I'm sorry, where have I been for the past week again?" He calls out to me as he starts a shower. "I'm not a religious man, but I know what Hell looks like when I see it."

Right.

"It didn't cross my mind that-"

"Yeah?" He's back with a scowl spreading across his face. "A lot of things didn't cross your mind, did they?"

His words are like daggers. It's not like I don't deserve them.

"Regardless. There's no time for naps, vampire. We have a lot to discuss."

"Oh, no. We don't have anything to discuss," he tells me. "You and I? We're done here. I have a life to get back to. Businesses to run." He looks as though he's ticking off a laundry list of to-dos in his head. "And I need to-"

"All of which can wait," I tell him.

"Not an option," he tells me as he retreats back into the bathroom. How is he _not _concerned with what's happening here?

"I beg to differ, vam-"

"You can let yourself out," he yells, slamming the door behind him. I don't hear the rest of whatever he's muttering. Something about going to hell… which I suppose is appropriate.

I sigh, flustered by his stubborn attitude.

Granted, I could destroy the door, pick him up, fling him into the car and _make _him do my will. But that would be counterproductive.

Instead, I wait him out and take a seat at the desk.

Nostalgically, I pull the top drawer open and begin to rifle through papers. I pick up the Prince disc I left behind the other day and see that it's empty. I could have sworn I put it back into its home but…

Then I notice another piece of paper - on _top _of the desk.

A letter addressed "Dear Edward."

I scan to the bottom and it's signed _Bella._

She was here. But when? This wasn't here the other day. She must have …

My heart ceases to beat as I read her words.

_Edward, _

_We made a deal, and you didn't keep your side of the bargain. I don't know if it was my past or yours that scared you off, but it really doesn't matter, does it? In the end, the results are the same. You don't have to worry about me coming around or stalking you like you stalked me. I can take a hint._

_I'm going home. To Gila Bend. I'm going to embrace my past, just like you said. Regardless of how much my heart hurts from being ignored over the past two days, what you said was right. Everything seems so much clearer now. Somehow. I'm thankful for that at least._

_I'm thankful for a lot of things, really. Even today, alone in your office, I don't regret what we did._

_I've accepted who I am, Edward. I hope you can do the same. _

There is a searing ache inside me as I finish reading. It doesn't subside. It doesn't fade. It only grows.

I toy with the edges of the paper Isabella's words are written on and try to stop my chest from imploding due to the anguish I've caused her. The anguish I've caused _myself._

I lean back and gaze up at the stars adorning Edward Cullen's office ceiling once again. An exact replica of Zeus's world. One I'd despised for centuries, and yet, I feel a certain comfort from them now, in ways I never thought I could or would. Because of her.

_"__Do you think if Zeus and Poseidon had gotten past their arrogance that Cassiopeia might have fallen in love with one of them?" Isabella had inquired on the thick rug beneath me the other night._

_"__I think there isn't a goddess in existence that could have resisted their charms." I peeked down at her. "Had it not been for their arrogance." _

_Isabella snuggled closer as she stared up at the stars. Her fingers traveled along my arm until they skipped to my stomach and further down. "I don't know," she said, caressing me into an erection. "As a recently proclaimed goddess, myself-" she gently swung her leg over me, so she was facing me- "I think there are much more charming prospects out there." _

_It was the last thing she said before lowering herself and showing me the stars in a way I hadn't ever looked at them before._

I close my eyes and attempt to fight off the desolation I'm feeling. How am I ever going to make this right?

How do I stay? With her? As me?

I press the call button on my phone, but her damned voice recording answers again.

"_Thanks for calling! I'm clearly unavailable but leave a message and-"_

I end it. What I have to say cannot be said into a piece of technology.

I want to crush this phone right here and now.

"Still here?" The vampire's voice pulls me from my pondering, and I push myself up out of the chair and away from things I cannot deal with at the moment. I fold Isabella's letter and slide it into my pocket.

"Good, you're done showering. We need to leave."

He furrows his brow and gives me a sarcastic grin. "Look, _Hades_?" he says my name with an odd hesitation. Not that I can blame him. "I have responsibilities here. Who knows what all this time away has done to the-"

"Whatever you think is urgent right now, vampire, believe me. It's not."

"Yeah?" He takes a step back and studies me with annoyance. "And what _is _more important than, I don't know, my _life_?"

"Something I have to fix," I urge. "There's someone who needs some sort of closure if nothing else. It's the least that-"

"No offense-" his eyebrows shoot up a bit-"But that sounds like your problem. Not mine."

"You're going," I tell him as he begins to move papers around on his desk.

He stops and stares me down with another one of his angry scowls. "And why's that?"

"Because we're not going to disappoint her."

"Her." His expression changes abruptly, and his eyes fall to the floor. A single word and he's quickly gone from type A personality to practically meditating. He appears to be searching his memory for something when suddenly I feel as though he knows exactly who I'm referring to.

He mulls something over and ah… I see the brooding Emmett has referred to. There is a tangled web of self-loathing and conflict I feel I might identify with.

Finally, he nods with a frown on his lips. "Okay," he says without another argumentative word. He grabs his keys from the desk. "Let's go," he mutters, "Out the back, unless you want to spend the next hour soothing Jasper and his issues."

"How could you possibly know he's-"

"Jasper's got issues _every _day," he says. And I suppose I'd have to agree with that.

Before he leaves the office, the vampire glances over his shoulder and juts his chin toward the other side of the room. "Don't forget the hoodie," he says. "She'll be cold at night."

xXxXx

Edward Cullen has the windows down in the car, breathing air as though it's the first time he's experienced it. "It feels good to be alive again," he announces, and then thinks over the word he's used. "Dead, I guess. Technically." And the fretting has escalated.

"You seem to be taking the events of the past week rather well," I notice and mention.

"Something about getting another chance at living makes everything that happened seem… worth it."

Interesting take on one visit to Hell and another to the King of the Sea's domain.

"Who are you calling?" He's taken possession of his cell phone again. It's not lost on me that I know have _no _way of contacting Isabella, despite my hatred for the damned thing.

"A friend." He presses speaker on the screen. As soon as the call is answered, I know who it is.

"Ed...Hades? Have you-"

Edward grins slightly. "It's me, Em. Just wanted to let you know I'm alright."

"Ed?" His voice is filled with disbelief. And over the top enthusiasm. I can just about envision Emmett jumping up and down on the other end of the phone. "Shit. How did you - wait, is …" He hesitates, whispering the last bit. "Is _he _there?"

I roll my eyes and Edward peeks over from the passenger seat. I cannot help but feel a bit relieved that who I am doesn't appear to have too much of a shocking effect on these two.

"He's here," Edward tells his friend. "Long story. Listen, not a ton of time here, but about that night-"

"Seriously?" A snort from the other end of the line. "Two seconds back and you're already a guilt-ridden sack of sad Edward, obsessing over this again? Don't fucking worry about it."

And he's right. The guilt is written all over Edward's face. "I didn't mean to make you feel crappy, I-"

"I know you didn't, jackass. I'm not an idiot." I try to hide my smirk.

Pleasant chuckles fill the car from Edward, for the first time since I've personally known him, and from Emmett who is no doubt shaking with amusement, wherever he is.

"Can you make sure Brick and Mortar opens on time tonight? Jazz is probably a wreck, and-"

"Dude. You seriously have _no _idea. But don't worry, everything's covered. I'm just glad you're back. Where are you going?"

"We're taking a trip apparently." Edward breathes out with permanent gloom plastered across his face. "To um…" he looks over at me for direction and I finish for him.

"We're headed to Gila Bend, Emmett. To see Isabella."

Silence.

"Em?" Edward calls out, wondering if he lost the connection.

"How the f-"

I snatch the phone from Edward's hand and end the call. Then I put the thing away so he's not tempted to call back, making him any more skeptical than he already is about our objective at hand.

He doesn't fight me on it. He simply checks the music player for a CD, smiles slightly as he slides it back in, then turns the sound down as he relaxes into his seat. The quiet lyrics of Prince play as he watches the road speed by. His thoughts are nearly palpable. Mine drift to Isabella.

_We need music for our road trip_, she'd said on our way home from the beach when she put this exact CD into the player.

As the vampire daydreams, I begin to fear he may change his mind again and jump out of a moving vehicle to avoid coming along, so I attempt to distract him from his thoughts.

And me from mine.

"Why did you do it?"

He looks over at me, inquisitively. "What?"

"The stars. In your office."

The expression of a treasured memory passes over him, and a smile teases at the corners of his mouth. His hand lingers at his chin as he daydreams out the window. "I don't get out much during the day, as you probably know."

"So I've gathered."

He takes a deep breath and stretches his legs.

"Painting has always been a way for me to forget about my situation for a while. It makes me feel…"

"Normal."

"Yes. Exactly. It's one of the best escape mechanisms I've found, actually."

Interesting that he would need one. "But why on the ceiling of your office when you can see them any time you wanted, at night?"

He shrugs. "They make me feel like I'm home."

And this declaration. The way he says it has me curious. "How so?"

"They've always been that for me," he divulges. "I can read them, understand them, follow them to places I didn't know existed before. I met Emmett following those stars. And Jasper. And it was comforting, to finally see I wasn't the only one of… _me _out there, so-" he shrugs-"I painted them. Where I could always remind myself I'm not alone. Even in the middle of a sunny afternoon."

Home, he says. I'm not even sure where that is for me anymore.

"And this musician?" I ask, perhaps in an attempt to force my thoughts away from depressing subjects.

Edward allows himself a full-sized grin now. He even manages to let out what seems to be a halfhearted laugh. "I've watched thousands of artists rise and fall. He's the only one whose music speaks to me on the level his does."

Isabella said as much herself. I suddenly become puzzled about something.

"Tell me how you knew who I was referring to, back at the office? What drove you to come with me?"

He becomes uncomfortable, scowling at the floor in front of him.

"Dreams."

"I don't understand. You dreamt about-"

"I think they were dreams anyway," he interrupts, raking a hand through his disheveled hair, fisting it as though trying to forget what I'm asking him to remember.

"And what were these dreams about, pray tell?"

"Everything," he says. As though that's clarifying it for me.

"Hell?"

He shakes his head. "Honestly, that wasn't the worst part of it. I thought I'd finally ended up exactly where I belonged."

"Not everyone belongs where they end up, vampire," I muse, thinking on things I've learned of late. He doesn't agree.

"I've done terrible things," he confesses, much like he nearly did the first night we met. "Things I'm not proud of. Things I've-"

"Tried to atone for during the majority of your existence, from what I understand." If the conversations with Emmett were not enough, his constant penitence filled expression would sell me on that.

"Maybe. That doesn't erase any of it."

"But it shows your heart, vampire. And that, in many ways, is more important than one's past actions." As I've very recently learned.

"You sure you're the god of Hell?" he asks, almost jokingly. To be honest, I'm not positive myself anymore.

"Was it very tumultuous for you? Where I hid you away?"

"Mostly? Yes. It was pretty much unbearable." A thoughtful, pained look slowly turns into somewhat of wistful one as he stares out the window again. "Then there was this girl." He breathes in and lets it out slowly, as though the mere thought of her makes him breathe easier. And he seems to search for her along the roadway.

And oh, how I know that look. That feeling.

"She made me forget everything else for a while," he continues.

"What do you mean?" I ask, although I feel as though I don't need an explanation.

"The screaming, the howling, the scratching and tormenting… it all faded into the background like white noise when she was there. She smiled at me with this…"

"Brightness."

"Yeah," he agrees, wondering how I know.

"We danced," he remembers. "And she has this wit." He speaks as though she's right here with us. "She gets me like... "

"No one else ever could."

"Exactly."

"We sat on a beach for hours. She talked to me about Chaucer, for Christ's sake." He laughs. "And we studied the stars." He narrows his eyes, untrusting of this next part. "I showed her Orion." He sniggers just a tad. "And I have no fucking clue what that even _is_."

I roll my eyes. "Really, vampire. How do you study the stars and yet have no knowledge of the gods and their constellations?"

He shrugs. "I try to steer clear of studying too much of any religion, _considering._" He's being sarcastic, but I don't find it humorous.

"Religion has nothing to do with it."

"It has everything to do with it," he insists. And yes, I could debate that with him for the remainder of our trip, but I have much more important information to extract.

"About the girl…"

He nods, falling right back into recalling his time with her. "She was everything. Something that, quite honestly, I never thought possible but… it was real, right?" He's asking me, who has no idea if any of this is real anymore. "Or, it felt real. Somehow."

"It was real," I finally tell him.

Because even as my urges to kill her were real, so was the love he was feeling for her.

How could it not be?

"None of it makes much sense. I should have killed her right there."

"Agreed," I muse, not fully understanding the link between us through this whole experience.

"I remember _wanting _to kill her mostly," he continues, trying to work it all out for his own sanity. "And I was so _angry _for putting myself in a position like that, after all this time. It was a strong urge,but... somewhere along the line, I don't know." He laughs. "I-"

"Fell in love with her," I finish for him once again. Because that's what happened. We fell in love.

The god of Hell and the vampire.

He doesn't agree or disagree. He simply lets the word hang there between us.

"Woman," I tell him after a few minutes of silence.

"What?"

"She's not a girl," I tell him, focusing my stare at the road before us. "She's a woman."

xXxXx

My heart races as we pull up to the home I now know belongs to Isabella's mother.

I'm suddenly very nervous. What do I say to her? Can I say _anything _at this point? I'm not even me anymore. Or rather, I'm not Edward Cullen.

I'm not her lover. Or even her boyfriend.

I am Hades. King of Hell, once again.

_We made a deal, and you didn't keep your side of the bargain. _

I'm keeping it, now, Isabella.

"For what it's worth, vampire. I'm sorry," I say as I put the car in park and prepare myself for the encounter that awaits us.

"For which part?" he asks with only a tinge of bitterness laced around the edges.

I make eye contact with him. "For all of it."

As we exit the car, he stops me from heading off just yet. "I get it, you know."

"Which part?"

"All of it," he says with a painful expression akin to my own.

As we walk up to the house together, I watch him tug at his shirt sleeve, much like he did the first night we met. Then he pulls at the collar of his shirt and eyes the door we now stand in front of but doesn't do anything else. He doesn't breathe, or move, or blink an eye.

So I knock.

"I shouldn't be here," he mutters nervously. "I can already hear her heartbeat."

"Welcome to the club, vampire. Think of something else."

"What else is there to-?"

The door swings open and an older woman stands before us. She bears a striking resemblance to the woman I've fallen in love with, and I can't help but smile.

"Can I help you?" she asks with the same slight tilt of her head as her daughter.

The vampire is still mute and once again fiddling with this hair, so I step in to assist. "Hello, Ms. Dwyer. Is Isabella home?"

"Bella?" She turns and calls out behind her, pulling the door a bit wider. And when my goddess arrives at the door, my heart beats again. I'm lighter, clearer. I open my mouth to tell her how absolutely fulfilling it is to see her, but I'm cut off by the vampire.

"Bella." His face is full of everything I want to say. He appears a bit off balance but covers it well. His practice around humans has come in handy. But Isabella is not your run of the mill human.

_I love you, _I hear her say inside my mind. It seems like only a few short hours ago that she was back in a small room, inside the Brick and Mortar, naked beneath me like she had been so many other times.

Seeing her makes the world correct again. Until it's not.

She looks at me as though she has no idea who I am. Like we have no carnal knowledge of each other on so many different levels. And of course she doesn't. But then, there's something in her expression...

"Edward?" she says, holding my stare momentarily, despite her reservations. She's trying to piece together a puzzle she's already solved but can't accept. So she forces her attention to the vampire. "Where in the hell have you been?"

"Um."

For the love of Satan. I sigh. She glances my way and her brow dips, then she whips her gaze back to the vampire.

"I asked you a question."

He's unprepared to answer. As am I, I suppose. We hadn't discussed this particular story. And I wouldn't feel right lying to her at this point either.

"I-"

"I mean, okay, even if something came up, fine, but no texts? No _return_ text? No call? Nothing? Really? After everything?"

"Um-" He's petrified. I have a petrified vampire standing next to me. Fantastic.

Her brow is raised, and she huffs in mock amusement.

"That can't be your answer," she tells him, almost daring him to tell her it is. Part of me wants him to fail. The other part, though, the one that loves Isabella and cannot stand to see her hurting like this… that part wants him to win her back.

_Don't say Hell… do not say you were in Hell._

"Actually?" His eyes nonchalantly glance my way.

The idiot is going to tell her he was in Hell.

This is about to get awkward very fast, I'm convinced of it.

But then he inhales long and hard before asking her, "Have you ever read the Odyssey?" as he scratches at the back of his neck.

Sudden shock and surprise spread across her face, and I am relieved. He's not as stupid as I thought, apparently.

"Because-" he laughs and runs a hand through his hair again, grabbing it at the ends- "I've kind of felt like Odysseus for the last couple of days, to be honest."

Isabella's eyes dart from the vampire to me, hesitating as though she's still trying to place me, then back to him again.

She disappears for only a few seconds before returning with something in her hands. She holds the book out for us to see.

_Him_. For him to see.

"I literally just read it," she says, bewildered that he used the exact character she's been reading about to explain his loss of time away.

Edward looks at it, astonished. Confused. He takes it slowly. "You stole my book?"

Of course she did.

"Borrowed," she tells him. And I grin at her sarcasm.

He tilts his head and narrows his eyes in an almost teasingly way. "Did you have _permission _to steal my book?"

"Borrowed," she corrects him again, with a slight song to her voice and a half smile. "And I guess I just sort of assumed-"

"So, no on the permission."

"I-"

"You do realize that's called stealing."

Her mouth hangs open. She's unsure if he is joking or serious. I shake my head. And I want to choke the life out of him.

"I'm sorry," he says, leafing through it, admiring its pages. "It's just that it's a first edition of Pope's translation, and-"

"I noticed," she says, practically offended but also impressed and excited all of a sudden. "I can't believe you wrote _notes _in a first edition. Do you know how much this worth?"

"Of course I do." He closes it with one hand, raking a hand through his hair again with the other. "I bought it at auction." He huffs out a short laugh. "You know, as opposed to _borrowing _it."

Bella seems to find this comment slightly amusing.

"And I hadn't planned on selling it so-"

"Well why would you _sell _it? It's _gorgeous_," she tells him. Then a bit quieter, she adds, "Priceless." Her awe is showing. And he likes it. A bit too much.

His eyes meet hers, and his face wears a curious, pleasantly surprised expression. He's just met a kindred lover of extremely old printed things. "Priceless," he says, as though he's referring to more than just the book. "Exactly."

They share a connected moment, and she takes a step toward him. And why not? She's drawn to him, she always has been. But it causes the vampire to put a bit more distance between them, carefully handing the book back to her.

She has an odd reaction when their fingers touch, and I'm struck with a looming fear as she reaches for him again. It almost seems as though she's testing a theory out. Then she takes a few steps backward again and tucks the book under her arms, sort of hugging herself as she tries to understand the vampire. Tries to understand what it is about him.

"You seem different," she says.

"I _feel _different," he tells her, like it's a confession of some sort.

She pushes some hair behind her ear then remembers where her thoughts were previously. "This doesn't get you off the hook, by the way, just because you come here and make me laugh for a hot second."

He holds her gaze and tells her earnestly, "I would hope not."

She looks deflated. She was planning on more of a fight, perhaps. Excuses. She got none. And then, just as I believe I'm in the clear, she turns her attention to me.

"Who is your friend?"

Edward makes an awkward attempt. "This is…" but comes up short of ideas.

_"__Aiden." _I give her a modern take on an ancient version of my name, _Aides, _that won't sound so old. Hopefully.

As our eyes lock, I feel the overwhelming urge to pull her to me. To tell her I love her, over and over again. To place my lips against hers and pick up where we left off not so long ago.

"Aiden." She practically whispers my name, and once again, I long to hear my true namesake fall from her lips as it did only once.

"Are you two hungry? We have leftovers?" Her mother breaks the silence between us.

"We'd love some," I say without a moment's thought, and yet can hear Isabella telling her mother no at the same time, quite louder than me.

There's an awkward pause between the four of us. Her mother asks, politely, "Drinks, then? Perhaps?"

Isabella gives her mother a look of warning, but it's matched by the woman who gave her life.

"Show your friends the backyard, baby girl. I'll bring some tea out in a few."

"Mom-"

"Do what your mother tells you, dear." She winks at her daughter and leaves the vampire and me there with the woman we both love.

Isabella bites her lip before pushing past the two of us while rubbing her arms for warmth. "Follow me."

"Oh, right. Wait right there," Edward suddenly blurts out. He runs off to the car, leaving me alone with Isabella.

"Does he have another friend hiding in there or something?" she asks me.

"No," I inform her, "It's just me," perplexed she would think such a thing, as the vampire arrives back as quickly as he left.

He holds the dreaded hoodie of hers out to her. "I thought you might be cold," he tells her. Then, with a half grin, he says, "And I don't borrow things without asking."

She doesn't want to laugh, but I see it in her eyes. It's there as she pulls the jacket on - the same glimmer of adoration she used to award me with. And it hurts, watching them tangled together as he attempts to help her put the damned jacket on. She actually seems to enjoy the clumsiness of it all, for fucks sake.

"I know that dress," the vampire says, mystified, as he takes her in for the first time since we arrived. He's quite literally gawking at Isabella with the strangest of stares. He's trying to place the clothing but can't quite decipher real memories from the dreams, I would bet.

"I should hope so," she tells him in a surprisingly flirtatious way. "You bought it for me."

I glower. _I bought it for you._ Does she not see me here, pining for her like a small boy with his first crush?

"You look beautiful in it," Edward muses, almost embarrassed to say it out loud. Shy perhaps. It's pitiful, really. A bashful vampire.

"You took it off of me," she murmurs in response with a knowing smile and a slightly raised eyebrow. He swallows, apprehensive about being so close to her, perhaps. Still, the two of them are caught up in some sort of romantic, Arizona star filled sky moment. Neither one of them moves for what feels like an eternity.

Jealousy begins to churn inside me as they enjoy their moment of bliss.

Then, as though she's only just now realized there are more people here than her and the bloodthirsty vampire who now looks as though he wants to rip her throat out, she shakes her head and… Welcome back to reality, Isabella.

Fuck.

I give the vampire a bit of a scowl as we follow her the rest of the way into the backyard. There, our hostess busies herself, grabbing some chairs for us.

And that blush.

It's meant for _me_.

As we sit, Isabella's mother brings three glasses of her tea that's made from scratch. Then she disappears again, into the house. Isabella seems to want her to stay, but it's too late. She's gone. And I am a useless thing, sitting here, jealous of the attention that a ridiculous dress is getting and of the vampire who's taking credit for removing it from the vixen I purchased it for.

He watches her from a distance with the awestruck gaze of a man falling further into love. And I shoot him the angry look of a god who is powerless to strike him down where he sits. Unless, of course, I'd like the world to know that Greek gods exist and that one of them is here, in Gila fucking Bend.

When I notice the concerned looks upon everyone's faces, I wonder if perhaps if I've done just that.

It turns out, unbeknownst to me, the glass of homemade sweet tea I've been holding is now scattered into a million tiny pieces on the concrete below.

"I'm sorry," I mutter, blinking the fury away. "I'll-"

"It's okay, I've got it," Isabella says. When she takes the last remaining jagged piece from my hands, carefully, my breath is caught in the back of my throat.

_Talk to me, _she'd once said.

_I'd much rather kiss you again, _I had answered. And oh how I want to kiss her now. Everywhere. Anywhere. As long as my lips are on her.

Isabella freezes when our hands touch, and our eyes meet once again. I silently beg her to recognize me as the man… the _god_ who loves her. This time, she seems to remember something. Perhaps something about grazing fingers, and well-placed kisses, and dresses that were removed effortlessly.

The moment is gone as quickly as it began, and she carries on with cleaning up the mess I've made. It's only I that am left with the memory of the two of us now. Bella has convinced herself she's mistaken.

Once the broken shards are completely gone, Isabella's mother replaces the glass. She whispers something into her daughter's ear, and the object of my desires relaxes some into a lawn chair, reminding me of the one she nudged me into on the balcony at the beach.

_I said no expectations, Isabella._

_But I didn't._

She leans back and Edward cautiously watches her from where he sits. I fear if he touches her again, I might rip him apart and send him back to Tartarus after all.

As Isabella looks up at the sky above her, her entire body seems to sigh with contentedness as she attempts to place some of them.

"They're so clear tonight. I told you that you could see them forever, here."

Edward follows her gaze. I can't be bothered. I already know the stars, and besides, I'm too busy appreciating the exposed neckline Isabella is allowing me to admire at the moment.

_Perfection._

I lick my lips and imagine placing gentle kisses along her jawline. Against her breasts. _Between her legs._

Movement catches my eye, and I watch helplessly as the vampire takes Isabella's hand in his. "Weird how we really only see one of every one hundred million stars in the galaxy. It puts things into perspective, doesn't it?" he asks.

"Yeah," Isabella replies. Slightly perplexed. "Tell me about them?"

He sighs happily. "I'm surprised to see the North Star so prominent, honestly," Edward tells her with the voice of a creature who views them simply as scientific bodies of gas.

_Unbelievable._

"And Cassiopeia?" she asks him. There's a tone to her voice; a tone that's more lustful than wistful. My body responds with that chill she's given me since the day we met.

_You put her beauty to shame._

"Who?" the vampire responds. I let out a breath of sheer frustration and rub at my temple.

"The constellation?"

We literally _just _spoke about this. Idiot.

He looks up again, and points. "I think that's Orion."

For the love of Satan. I nudge him and jut my chin toward where the bastard of Poseidon actually lights up the sky. Edward is at a loss, however, and I am astounded at the absence of the Greeks in his knowledge base once again.

I bow my head into my hand and cannot believe the idiocy of this creature. It's literally painful to listen to him prattle.

"You have something to add?" Isabella asks, and I look up to see she's staring at me with - annoyance?

I give her a slight smirk. "Orion is-" I point, in quite the opposite direction of where Edward has- "Over there." I pause for her find it. "As for your Cassiopeia, she's still hangs where we-." I stop myself and clear my throat. "Where the gods left her. Just there." I point, remembering how it felt to have Isabella lean against me in the room full of stars. And how her entire body blushed that afternoon.

_And the other brother?_

_You won't find him there._

I bite my lip as I stare at her, letting thoughts of telling her everything invade my mind, wanting nothing more than to make her see the stars in other, more gratifying ways. For the both of us.

She catches me staring, and the glow of her skin is back. At least I know I can still bring that out in her.

I don't break the stare. And she doesn't either, at first. But then, unsurprisingly, she looks away, unable to understand why I make her so uncomfortable. Then she turns to Edward, studying his expression, and is searching for words.

His face flushes a bit. Not enough for Isabella to notice, however. Just us supernatural creatures lurking in her backyard.

It's quiet for a few moments between the three of us, but Isabella, as usual, eventually finds her voice.

"I need some answers, Edward," she tells him seriously. "You obviously aren't _really _Odysseus."

He purses his lips, and his brow curves downward as she continues.

"I won't lie to you. I dreamed of you coming here more than once, because this is the crazy kind of stunt you used to pull. But now that you're here…"

He leans toward her like a magnet to its opposite without thought. "Bella, I-"

"I didn't realize how much it would hurt because it doesn't change what you did." Tears begin to push their way through her words now.

The sound of her pain tears at my chest like a pitchfork to the heart. The vision of it is ten times that.

"Either you don't accept me, or you don't care enough to protect my heart after what I told you... after we, me and you… that rug."

_Say something, you idiot vampire. Fucking say something. _

But he can't, he has no idea what she's referring to. It happened after he was taken from Hell.

For fucks sake.

"It's my doing actually, Isabella," I tell her rather desperately, before she says something all of us will undoubtedly regret.

She eyes me carefully, annoyed at first for interrupting her. Then she narrows her stare, as though maybe she recognizes me once more. "Wait-" she looks back to Edward- "Does this have something to do with your mafia connections?"

And he could not be more confused. "Mafia?" He lets out a baffled laugh. "I-"

"Yes." They both gawk at me as I blurt out my reply. And, for once, I want to kiss Rose for giving me the answer to our problem. "And it's gambling, actually," I correct Isabella. "We try not to get tangled up with the Mafiosi, to be quite honest."

It sounds perfectly acceptable to me.

To Isabella, however...

"Oh." She gives me a mocking sigh of relief. "Well that's a good thing then, because we wouldn't want any dangerous people involved, now would we?"

She's angry. I know I deserve it. The vampire doesn't. He's mouthing silently to me now.

_Gambling?_

"I needed Edward to help me find something I'd lost," I tell her carefully. Hopefully. Semi-truthfully. "He owed me a debt. He's paid it now."

It's the other way around in reality.

I owe him everything.

"So you found what you're looking for, I assume?" She's still glaring at me but with a bit of familiarity there. I not only see it. I feel it. She's denying it to herself, however.

And I hold on to the moment as long as I can without seeming awkward. "Yes."

She's back to looking to Edward for answers now, and I try to calm his concerns by mouthing _long story_ to him.

"And you came here because?" she asks him.

I answer before he has a chance to, speaking for myself. "Because he couldn't be away from you another minute," I tell her. When she finds me staring at her again, I add, "His heart is here. It's where he belongs, after all."

Her eyes search mine for something.

She doesn't find it. Or doesn't want to.

"Is that true?" she asks the vampire.

When I start to answer her, she holds a hand up to me. "Stop speaking for him," she says, agitated with me for more than the first time tonight.

"I'm simply-"

"Aiden," Edward says to me quietly yet sternly as he gives me a reassuring eye. "I've got this."

And when he turns to face Isabella himself, he takes her hand in his. Although I see the hesitant bodily reaction he has to touching such a delicate creature, I also notice his gentleness and sincerity as he looks into her eyes.

He takes a deep breath in as though testing himself then lets it out slowly before beginning.

"Bella, had someone told me a week, two weeks, a month ago that I would find myself tormented by the need to be near another human being, much less one as-" he pauses for just the right words- "Beautiful, yes, but more than that… funny, ridiculously smart, sarcastic, and not to mention having the deep-seated love of literature that drives you to steal it, I would have-" He laughs. "Hell. I actually _did _tell Emmett he was crazy, but now…" He hesitates and swallows. Breathes deeply again.

"Now?" she urges. And he looks as though he's lost his train of thought.

"Where was I?"

"What Aiden said?"

"Right…" He leans in close. Too close for a vampire who's as thirsty as he probably is.

I see it in his expression. He doesn't even understand it himself, and yet here I am, comprehending it on the deepest, darkest level of the universe.

"It's absolutely, unequivocally, one hundred percent the truth," he tells her.

And, fuck.

As I watch the two of them bridge the gap that haunted us all when we first arrived, I realize that not only have I lost my Isabella, I never had her to begin with.

She doesn't quite make eye contact with me as she responds to what he's said. "What about… I mean, this can't keep happening, Edward."

"I can promise it won't," I finally chime in again. "Edward is no longer bound to any commitments he previously had to my… organization."

Also the truth.

"I appreciate that, Aiden," she tells me cautiously, wondering if she can trust me.

I want her to. So very badly. She nearly did just a few short days ago.

"Would you mind giving Edward and me a moment of privacy?" she asks. And I debate it. I don't know if I can trust the vampire to _not _screw this up, however, he's urging me to do as she asks. When I meet her eyes again, I realize I have no choice but to give Isabella what she desires. As always.

"Of course." I leave, subdued. Angry. Frustrated with my situation.

Yet I have no privacy here. So I head for the car, where I know it's quiet. And as I pass Isabella's mother on the way, sitting on the front steps of her home, staring up at the sky, she glances over at me with a sad smile.

"Thank you for having us, Mrs. Dwyer," I tell her softly.

Her smile turns into a grimace. "I'm sorry."

Which stops me in my tracks. I'm not sure what she could possibly be apologizing for.

"Sorry?"

"I can't say I completely understand what's going on between the three of you," she tells me in a soft, motherly sort of way. "But I do know a man in love when I see it. And it must be hard for you to watch my Bella swoon over her beau back there."

Her words sting.

Bile rises in the back of my throat.

I should convince her she's wrong. Tell her she's made a mistake. This is not about me, after all.

All I can do, as my chest cracks open and the anguish of not being able to hold Isabella in my arms again spills out, is to try and give her my best grin.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Dwyer."

I finish my trek to the car and slide in behind the steering wheel, slam the door, and simmer in the bitterness finding the vampire has created.

I close my eyes. I search for answers.

What did I think was going to happen once the real Edward Cullen was back?

How did I think this would end?

_With her at my side. Always. That's how._

The vampire interrupts my thoughts as he gives a half wave to Bella and her mother. "Thank you again for your time."

Then he pulls the door open, slides into the car, and gently shuts the door. "We have to leave."

"Why? What is that?" I ask him as he places a book she's given him on the floor of the back seat.

He shakes his head. "Not sure. Harry something or other. She says I have a lot of catching up to do"

"Potter," I tell him with a grin. The rest suddenly doesn't matter.

"What?"

"The book. It's Harry Potter."

xXxXx

For half of the car ride, the vampire is worse than Isabella with his thoughtful stares and quiet disposition. If only I could read thoughts, this would go much smoother.

"What happened?" I finally ask him, my patience gone, as he fidgets and tampers with gadgets on the console.

"This whole thing is wrong." He shakes his head as he taps his fingers against his lips.

He jerks his hand away and flicks his wrist at the air. "I'm not who she thinks I am."

"You're precisely who she thinks you are. For once."

"I don't like it."

"You don't like _what_, exactly?" The beautiful perfection of a goddess he's just won over? The life he now has? Granted, it's the one I took from him in the first place but … technicalities.

"I can't be with her," he says with a dark look. "You know that, right? You have to know that. Of all people, you should understand that. I don't even know how I can _feel _this way about… I barely _know _her."

"I think you know that's not true."

He huffs in frustration. "You don't get it."

"I do," I assure him. In more ways than one, I understand.

"No, _Hades_, I don't think you do. I'm not even any good at _being _with anyone. Did you see me back there? I was a disaster, for Christ's sake."

"Well." I laugh. "The boy Christ has nothing to do with it, but you _were _a disaster."

"And the blood lust is… I mean, it's only a matter of time before she finds out what I've done in the past, right? Or before I…"

I breathe out. Because oh, do I know what he's feeling.

"All you can do is trust her. And tell her. When you're ready." Much like I was about to when Poseidon intervened. Then, quoting a large bouncer I recently met, I tell him, "And there's always going to blood lust, Edward,"

"Great. Now you sound like Emmett."

I can't help but grin.

"How _do _you feel about her?" I ask him a few minutes later.

He doesn't want to admit it, but I can hear it in his next words. "I don't know how I feel - I have these memories of pouring my heart out to her, these urges to hold her…" His stare wanders. "Kiss her…" Then his gaze comes back to me. "But you…" He shakes his head. "You're the one they happened to, right? It's -"

"Not fair."

"I was going to say confusing," he tells me, almost surprised I didn't get it right this time.

As am I. _Interesting_.

As we pull into the parking lot of the Brick and Mortar, I park the car and turn to face him.

"Vampire, do you feel you're the same… creature you were before we met?"

His brow dips in thought. "No. Absolutely not. I mean, I was on a path to make sure I never did the things I have before, but now…"

"Yes?"

"After facing what's waiting for me when this life is actually over? I don't feel like it's even an option anymore. I want to make everything right that I've done wrong. I want to breathe air and feel sunlight on my-"

"Do you see where this is going?"

He doesn't answer.

"Not many are afforded another opportunity to right their wrongs once they've entered the underworld."

After he lets that sink in, he seems resolved. Then he sighs and nods. "Take the car, return it when you can. I'll probably stay here anyway. I've got a lot to-"

"Catch up on, yes." I nod.

He corrects me. "Think about."

He leaves the car and is about ten steps away when he snaps his fingers and returns. He reaches into the back seat and takes the book that Isabella has given him. Then he allows himself a semi smile when our eyes meet.

"She obviously thought it was important that I read it, right?'

"Indeed," I tell him. Then he's off to his bar. As he walks up to the Brick and Mortar, and before he's at the door, I see Emmett there, welcoming him back with a hug. They exchange words for a few moments and then disappear inside.

I think about going in myself, but I don't belong there. Not anymore.

Luckily, there are plenty of establishments around to suit my needs. I find another one, not too far away, and I go in to drown my thoughts into a bottle of tequila. Or ten.

As I sit on the iron barstool, time passes. People come and go, liquor is consumed, but none of it changes the fact that Isabella no longer looks at me as she did before.

The constant sinking feeling in my chest reminds me that she no longer wants me to cup her face or kiss her lips or trace ridiculous letters against her skin.

These are all things the vampire will do now… eventually. But me? I'm but a stranger now. I suppose I always have been.

I'm lost in thoughts of thick white rugs and hotel balconies when I'm brought out of them by a large burly man who bumps into me as he passes by.

I'm exhausted.

My ass is numb.

My thoughts are foggy.

My mouth, dry.

I need another drink, and yet I feel that even ten thousand more wouldn't drown my thoughts of Isabella.

The first night I met her.

The music that played.

The smile.

The kiss.

The … "Fuck."

"Is that a promise or a threat?" the bartender asks with a rough, scratchy voice as she puffs on a cigarette that hangs from the corner of her mouth. She's not as buoyant as the one at Brick and Mortar, nor as reassuring.

Not that it matters.

The stench of stale beer that should have been able to make me forget about my own problems instead has me mulling over every single moment from the past months.

No… not months. Has it only been weeks? Days? Perhaps even less for all I know. Or care.

I push myself up and away from the bar.

I think on all the choices I've made and the ones others have made.

The outcome of those choices.

The pain it's caused on too many accounts.

And outside, as water falls from the sky, drenching me head to toe within seconds, I realize who needs to pay for it all. Who's at fault for where I stand with the woman I love.

I clench my teeth and say the name I know will bring him to me.

"Poseidon."

* * *

**PSA: Song for this one is _Possum Kingdom by Toadies_. Its purpose lies somewhere between a chapter end song and a teaser for what's to come.  
Thanks to Paige over in the Find Your Ward group for rec'ing Hades & Bella's stories last week.  
****You're definitely going to want to go read Bella's side in belladonnacullen's "Friend of the Devil", guys. Click the link in my favorite stories folder for easy access. So many little scenes this week were inspired by Marie's brain. *happy sigh*  
****Thanks to the bottom of Hades' broken heart to Sue, Chrisanne, Marie and you guys - because your thoughts make us smile like Edward when he's finally freed from Hell. And speaking of Hell, ****we're taking next Friday off. Marie has things, I have things - you probably have things… so we'll see you in December.**


	19. Chapter 19 Human

**Chapter 19 - Human **

Saying my brother's name hasn't had quite the effect I was expecting. Instead of pulling him to me, I've been taken to him. And given where he is, this is not a good thing.

"Don't," I beg the dark Arizona sky. "Don't be here."

I glance around at the shadowed landscape, buzzed on tequila and bourbon. I still sense him, lurking somewhere.

It's quiet except for the baying of a hound somewhere nearby. Even that ceases as I step carefully, closer to Isabella's mother's home.

_So dark and desolate compared to my visit with the vampire. _

There are no lights now. There is no more music playing. No discussions about Edward's behavior over the past few days. No Isabella staring up at the stars.

I walk softly toward the backyard, listening for anything that might give me a clue as to where Poseidon is and what he's up to. Not that I need much thought on that one.

It's not until I pass a window, cracked open only slightly, that I hear a murmuring coming from inside the home.

"He doesn't love you," I hear my brother whisper.

"He did though," Isabella's soft voice responds.

"No, child. Never."

I hiss. "Liar." And with a bat of an eye, I am inside, behind my brother. He hovers over Isabella like a common thief as she sleeps. He is nothing but a coward, using the cover of night to manipulate her mind.

She's restless, yes, but no doubt dreaming. Poseidon has pulled the sheets away to give him a better view of her body. His eyes rake over her as though he wants to devour her and I growl viscerally in response.

"Poseidon. You do not belong here, brother."

Isabella stirs. Poseidon's head jerks and when he sees me, a mischievous smile spreads across his face.

"Do not fucking touch her," I order him.

He stands and faces me full on with a bit of a dare in his expression. "Or what, brother? You took my other play toy. We could have left it at that.." He narrows his eyes. "Perhaps he's more important than the girl."

Not even close.

As he reaches for the purpose of my existence, I muster every bit of power I have and with a silent wave of my hand, send the scoundrel back to the first place that comes to mind.

The parking lot of the Brick and Mortar.

No sooner are we there when he begins manipulating the world around us.

Lightning strikes. Clouds surge. Rain begins to pour.

He knows I hate the fucking rain.

"You're not going to hurt anyone else, _brother_," I tell him as every muscle in me tightens, readying to end this once and for all.

"Is that so?" he asks, circling me at a slow pace. As though I could be intimidated by him. As though I have _reason _to be intimidated by him.

And as far as the weather goes, I have my own tricks to use against him.

I jerk my head a bit, toward a nearby cluster of trees. One of them splits in two, falling directly toward him. It misses by inches. So I throw another at him while he's busy gloating, and this one side swipes him. It's enough to knock him off balance.

I take his distraction as an opportunity to charge, full force.

Poseidon and I haven't fought for centuries. There's been no need. I haven't had the pleasure of seeing him in as many years. Why bother?

We're making up for it now.

As I slam into him, thunder crashes somewhere close by. As we hit the ground, lightning strikes a lamppost and shards of broken glass spray in a deadly display of illumination. It is bound to attract the attention of local humans, if not their law enforcement.

Poseidon throws me off of him, but I find my footing and attack again.

"You can't beat me, Hades. You know that," he tells me with a smug expression as he pushes himself up off of the wet grass.

"Can't I?"

I stomp on the back of his knee. He crumples back down to the ground, groaning in pain, but he's swift to heal. As he stands this time, he flicks his hand and a wave of wind and rain pelts me backward. I can no longer see him. But I hear him. In my head.

"This won't end well for you, Hades," his voice echoes loudly. "I warned you not to open Pandora's box."

I'm not quite sure what he's talking about at first. Bella is safe in Gila Bend. But then I see them - three vampires exiting the Brick and Mortar. Edward is in front with Emmett beside him. Jasper is slightly behind the two of them, talking quietly. Giving… instructions?

Perhaps they've come to witness the altercation between my brother and I.

It's possible, I suppose. Only why would they appear to be in some sort of battle stance?

They can't seriously be considering...

That doesn't make any sense. Why would they-

Poseidon throws lightning their way and they scatter, blurs of movement in the nighttime, as though preparing to corner the god of the sea in a triangle of death.

Idiots.

As Poseidon readies to snap them each in two, I wave a hand at them, sending them back inside their bar, where he cannot harm them. For now.

"This has nothing to do with them, brother!" I yell at the storm that's headed for me once again.

"Tell _them _that, Hades," he says inside my mind - and I see them… coming for him again.

Frustration takes over, and I let out a heavy sigh as I shake my head at the vampires who think they can take on a god.

Poseidon throws a wall of water at Emmett, trapping him like an insect in jello.

Then he blows a bit of wind toward Edward, sending him hurtling through the air. He collides with the building, then crashes to the ground.

Movement catches my attention and I see Jasper just as he's about to pounce on my brother from behind. Poseidon flicks him away like a flea, and he is thrown against parked cars, landing somewhere in between them.

When I see the three of them gather their wits and ready to make another attempt at an attack, I clap my hands, sending them to Edward's penthouse this time. Then I rush Poseidon again while I still have him in my sights.

He swings for my head as I am upon him but I duck and slide, swiping his feet out from under him. I think of what he may have done to Isabella had I not found him in time as he falls.

I twist and stand, facing him once more. With just a few purposeful strides I am on him, and I strike a fist against his jaw several times.

As I ready for another blow, I see them… _again_. And I hang my head in irritation.

The three owners of Brick and Mortar stalk toward us from the road. _Stubborn vampires_, ready for round two with the god of the seas.

I am extremely irked… and also baffled by their tenacity.

And then suddenly, I'm hit with a deep, dark, dreaded sense of defeat as logic floods over me while I watch them come back for yet another try.

When I look down on my brother, I realize he knows it too.

I cannot kill Poseidon, not even with three vampires at my side. To do that would mean destroying the Earth's seas altogether which would ultimately destroy all humans.

More specifically, Isabella.

I could disable him, yes, maim him even, perhaps. Stop him tonight, surely. But even that would take the efforts of more than just one god and still he would eventually be back. It would only be a matter of time.

I was naive to think I was enough. That _this _was enough.

Poseidon will never cease his efforts until he's destroyed me - by destroying Isabella.

There's only one thing that will end this.

I glance over at the vampires and I hold Edward Cullen's stare for what could have been moments or days, before waving an arm at the three of them again, sending them a bit further away than before. It should give me enough time to iron things out with my brother.

I hold my hands up in surrender as he stands and starts for me.

"You win, Poseidon," I tell him loud enough that I know he's heard me over the turmoil swirling around us. He comes to a cautious halt.

There we stand, quietly facing one another. Both angry. Both filled with a sibling rivalry that's lasted eons. Perhaps both even tiring of it all.

"What are you playing at, Hades?" he asks me, annoyed. Maybe because he thinks I'm tricking him. Or because he doesn't get to hurt me. _Or try to at least_.

Either way...

My breathing is a bit labored, as is his. Mine is not from any sort of exhaustion, however. It's from the fear of losing the one being that's made me feel worthy of love.

For the first time in a very long time, I am not searching for a loophole. I'm simply trying to keep that one being safe.

"No ploys, Poseidon," I tell him as studies me. "I'll go home."

He raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "You'll leave this place and give up on your preposterous dream of being with a human?"

I nod. "I will."

He narrows his eyes. "And you won't try this again?"

"No."

Then he warns me. "You're giving me your word, Hades. You know the consequences of breaking it."

I take a deep breath in and close my eyes. I breathe in all of the moments I've been able to spend with Isabella. I focus my thoughts on how her eyes sparkle in the sun. The way her lips glisten when I'm about to kiss her. How her heart quickens the closer we are. How it felt to be inside her.

But especially, I think of the three words I was able to hear fall from her lips before I had to leave her.

_I love you._

I open my eyes and tell him earnestly, "I do."

He grins, triumphant.

"But you must promise me something as well, brother," I add.

He's offended I would even suggest it.

"What?"

But at least he's willing to hear me out.

"You forget Isabella exists. And you never step foot near her again. Not here, not in your own domain. Ever."

He thinks on it. He purses his lips a bit. Then he shrugs almost immediately. "She's nothing to me as long as you know your place, Hades. It's all I've ever asked for. Aside from that, there's no need for me to interfere with the likes of these humans."

I know he's being truthful. He'd much rather play beneath the sea, with his own things, than interact with the likes of humans ever again. He learned his lesson long ago.

I stand a bit taller. "Then I'm ready to leave."

"Intelligent choice." He nods and waves at the storm, breaking the clouds apart and sending the rain back toward the sky.

He's extremely satisfied with himself. So nothing's changed. "I'll be checking in on you, Hades," he advises. "If you're still here next time, all promises are null and void."

He doesn't wait for an agreement. He doesn't need to. He simply vanishes.

I'm left with a sense of irony that he's turned into everything he always hated about Zeus.

As for me, I find myself walking the streets of LA for a bit. I tend to remain close to Isabella's apartment building though. And after a time, I sit on the curb across the street from it. I watch the darkened window I know is hers. She's not there. She'll be in Gila Bend with her mother for some time, but somehow I feel comforted that I'm here, where the memory of her smile still resides.

As I think on all the things we still had yet to do, the places I desire to take her, the things we still had to see… I wonder.

How will I do this?

How will I go home?

How will I go home without Isabella?

It's only when I ask myself the question that I'm struck with the very blatant, very vivid answer.

As I sit staring at this building, where just a short while ago, a madman wanted to end her life, it's plain as day.

I told Poseidon I would leave. I didn't tell him I'd go alone.

Why couldn't I simply take her with me? She loves me, after all. She's said as much in the office at the Brick and Mortar, on the rug. And many other places.

I could take her with me and she would go.

Yes.

I'll confess everything. And she'll have what she's always wanted from me after all - the truth. And I'll tell her how the vampire is a fraud. That he's _not _the one who shared the stars and made her feel the universe coming together and gave her mother back to her. He's not the one who loves her like I can.

Like I _do_.

Like I _always _will.

It's not as though she has much holding her here. She's practically admitted that time and time again. She needs a home, a place where I can protect her and keep her safe from the likes of Poseidon, and heartbreak, and the pain of losing loved ones.

The only thing she'd feel is worshipped, day in and day out.

She'd never need of anything again. Never _want _of anything again. She'd never be hungry or tired. She'd live forever. She'd be young and beautiful… _forever_.

And she would be mine.

Yes, it's the perfect answer to each of our problems.

_I love you,_ I hear her tell me with the mere thought of her hand against my skin.

_I love you,_ I hear again, as I remember placing thoughtful kisses against her body.

_I love you, _she would say as I enter her and make her see the stars.

As the sun comes up, I'm hopeful for the first time in days. I'm smiling and thinking of how satisfying it will be to finally get what I want for a change. And I imagine Isabella getting it too. I imagine the sunshine, as it is now, and how it glows against her skin, the same way it did that first morning I caught her at the park, walking her hounds. And in the sand at the beach, as she lay blissfully soaking in its rays.

And then my smile fades as I envision her in my world. With me. Where there is no sun. No laughter. No music for her to sing along to.

And then.

And then.

And _then_.

I know what I need to do.

xXxXx

Once I return to Brick and Mortar, I slip inside unnoticed and quietly make my way down the back hallway. I stand in front of the door that I know Edward Cullen is behind, back from the trip I sent him and his friends on a short while ago.

I wonder what went through their minds when they returned and saw no gods fighting in their parking lot. I wonder if he's spoken with Isabella since we left Gila Bend. I wonder if he has any idea what befalls him in just a few short seconds.

And then I knock.

When the door swings open, I'm greeted with curious eyes.

"Hello, vampire."

Edward Cullen's brow dips and he narrows his eyes, suspicious of my intentions.

"Hades? What are you doing here? What h-"

"You need to come with me," I tell him as I grab his arm and take him to Hell

xXxXx

This trip below is not spent crossing the Styx. It isn't entertained by The Furies or Hecate this time. They're all gone from here, off to do their bidding elsewhere.

This time, I take the vampire directly to my sanctuary. No need to alert any other creatures of his presence, it would only confuse them. And Edward, most likely.

Once we've arrived, he pulls away from me. He immediately and frantically searches for a way out. "Hell no. I'm not doing this again, I won't let you do this to me again."

But there is no way out.

Not yet.

I watch him, amused, for a few minutes before I let him off the hook.

"I didn't bring you here to lock you away, Edward." For the love of Satan. Does he think I'm that evil?

He stops and turns to me. "You didn't?" He searches my stare the same way Poseidon did when I told him he'd won. It stings a little, I won't lie.

"No," I assure him. "I simply needed you where we could speak alone. With some privacy."

He cocks an eyebrow, still a bit put off. "You couldn't have chosen… I don't know… the fucking _library_?"

"I assume that's sarcasm."

"Yes. _Fuck_." He rakes a hand through his hair. "It's sarcasm." Then he throws both arms up, flustered in a way only someone who's used to being the one in charge could be. "What is it you want, Hades? What can I possibly give you that you haven't already taken?"

"Like I said-" I take a seat and cross my legs, relaxing a bit in my own familiar surroundings. "We need to talk."

"Talk about what?"

I pause before telling him because this isn't something I take lightly.

"Getting you your soul back."

Edward stretches his neck toward me a little. "I'm sorry, did you just say-"

"Yes."

His brow rises in disbelief. "My soul?"

"That's correct."

"As in…"

"You'd be human again," I advise him matter of factly. "Fully human."

He falls into a couch beside him and stares at the floor, flabbergasted.

"I don't understand."

"It's the only way, Edward. For Isabella."

And then he looks to me as he tries to work his way through my intentions. "Why wouldn't you just take it for yourself? You said it. You _love _her. I assume that means something considering-"

"I wasn't born with a soul, Edward," I tell him with a heaviness that weighs on me more and more with each passing moment. I am only able to grin half-heartedly for him. "You were. I was born with… this." I wave a hand around us.

And he knows.

At least part of it.

"What about…" he swallows. This next bit is difficult even for him to comprehend. "I mean, she loves you too, right?"

The word alone creates an ache inside my chest.

"How can you just abandon her like this?" he asks, as though I hadn't already thought of it.

As though I don't _still _think about it.

"She loves all the parts of me that were born from you, Edward. She loves your eyes, your smile, your gentleness, your understanding, your wit, your touch. Your _stars_."

He shakes his head. "Yeah, but it _wasn't _me touching her or understanding her though. It wasn't me that was telling her stories about ancient beings and-"

"It was. But even if it wasn't-" I cannot hide the pain now- "It doesn't matter. I am darkness, Edward. Despair. I torture souls. I-"

"You showed her someone who accepts her for who she is, despite the baggage she carries around."

Something I feel the vampire may need as well. This vampire who already seems to _have _a soul.

Once again, I make my case to him. "I believe every good thing I did, every right decision I made along the way - including loving her - was yours."

"Why?"

I don't even try to smile this time. "Because I am Hades."

After a few very long moments of thought, Edward realizes, as I have, that Isabella deserves better than the god of Hell. Or a vampire.

"Okay."

xXxXx

"Once it's done, vampire, it cannot be undone. And like it or not, you won't remember much about your past life. Not the way you do now. It's irrelevant going forward. Your only responsibility is making the best of this offered opportunity."

"Wait."

I rub my eyes. I literally have never met one single being that has hesitated in gaining their soul back. "What is it now?"

"What about Emmett? and-"

His inquiry doesn't surprise me. I've thought about it myself, honestly. The fact that they were willing to put themselves at risk to assist me this evening makes them worthy of a gift as well.

"Tell me something, Edward. Why did the three of you choose to fight Poseidon?" I need to see if he believes it as well.

He shrugs and says without a second thought, "It was the right thing to do."

"Why?"

He hesitates, but only for a moment before he says, "Who is he to decide what you do with your life?"

"Even though you might have died?"

He almost laughs. "We're already dead, Hades."

I don't know or pretend to understand where a species of vampire such as these three originates. It was always my understanding that creatures such as these were driven by blood lust - unthinking, unempathetic, unwilling or unwanting to change.

Since my time on Earth with Isabella, however, I've also come to understand that not all beings are as they seem from afar.

That alone is enough to cinch my decision.

The next silent moments we share are of mutual respect and, at least on my part, admiration. Then there's really nothing left to say except...

"Consider it done."

He smiles and nods. He closes his eyes and I send him back to Earth, reborn.

xXxXx

"How are you feeling?" After a bit of time has passed, enough to let my will settle, I've come to visit the v-... Edward one last time at his place of business before permanently descending home again. And to give him one last gift.

"Okay." He breathes out as he bookmarks and closes _The Order of the Phoenix _then pushes himself away from his desk. "I lose snippets of things by the minute it seems."

I nod. That's to be expected.

He holds the book up for me to see the cover. "This is genius."

_This again._ I give him a solemn look. "Phoenixes don't give orders, they-"

"It's not literal, Hades," he informs me with a bit of a roll of his eyes and a chuckle to accompany it. "You really need to study modern languages more."

"Perhaps." If only I had more time.

I glance down at some papers and happen to notice a receipt and paperwork for a bookstore… here in Los Angeles. In the name of Isabella Swan.

And I smile, tapping the contract with a slight feeling of pride and approval welling up inside me. "Very good call, Edward." Very good indeed.

He gives me a bashful smirk and tells me, unable to fully make eye contact, "It's the least I could do." And when I look at him now, I don't see the arrogance I thought I did the night we met. I see a man ready to take advantage of a life he'd thought he lost.

A man ready to love a woman he only met in a dream.

Jealousy still remains, but it's slowly being replaced with some form of gratitude. Gratitude to this world and the humans that reside in it. To all the things it's taught me while I was here.

To Isabella.

"That is it." I reach inside my coat pocket and pull out something I found for him.

"I thought you might need this." I hand him the book.

He takes it and stares at the title with one-fourth appreciation, three-fourths amusement.

"_The Mythology of the Night Sky: An Amateur Astronomer's Guide to the Ancient Greek and Roman Legends_." His brow rises. "Wow, that sounds… interesting to say the least."

"Ignore the bits about the Romans. It's all made up children's stories."

Edward laughs. "Really."

"I thought it would make a good addition to your collection."

"It um… sure will." He starts to set it down.

"It will teach you about constellations and the Greek gods they were named after."

"I know, but I told you-"

For the love of Satan. "She enjoys the stars, Edward," I insist rather aggressively. "Learn about them on a different level than where they can take you in a sailboat and how far away from Earth they dwell."

And now he gets it. "Ah. Gotcha." And he smiles genuinely. "Will do."

Convinced my work here is done, I give him a nod. "Goodbye, Edward. Please don't make me return because you've screwed something up."

That something being Isabella of course.

"Promise," he says, and stops me before I turn to go. "Hey."

"Yes?"

"Thanks," he says. It's not something the god of Hell hears very often, to be honest. I'm not sure how I feel about hearing now, but regardless, I respond, "You're quite welcome."

And I leave the office behind me with a sullen heart.

I cross the bar to leave quietly and undetected this evening. Humans are always so busy with self-indulgence, they don't pay attention to the monsters that lurk just feet away.

I glance around and think on the time I've spent here. The connections I've made. What it's meant. And I cannot regret it, even as I leave it all behind.

I know now that life and death, the afterlife… It's not all black and white.

The good and the bad are made up of blues and greens. Smiles and tears. Sunshine and moonlight. All of the hues in between.

And stars.

And speaking of things that have lit up my world, I wonder, for a small moment, where Isabella is hiding herself away. I know I will constantly and forever feel a pull toward her. Although no good could ever come from it, I sense her here but am not convinced I will be afforded one last glimpse of her as I take a final look around at the establishment where I started my journey…

Then finally, hesitantly, begrudgingly even, I turn to go. And I nearly run into the same small framed, beautiful, perfect creature I began my time here on earth with.

I swallow, feeling the little bit of life left in me drain, and all I can seem to do is release her name into the room.

"Isabella."

She nearly smiles when she sees me. "Aidoneus."

And the name she's called me. As though she knows me.

But she couldn't. Surely I misheard her.

"I'm… just dropping something off," I tell her, hoping she doesn't jump to any conclusions about Edward and the mafia once again. "A thank you gift for the v- for Edward. I wasn't-"

"No, I know," she says with a slight awkwardness, shaking her head. Then she looks up at me again with a knowing stare. "I'm glad I ran into you."

"Yes, well." If I stay much longer, peering into her eyes, I know I will never leave. "I'm quite glad too. It was very nice to see you again, Isabella, I must be going though, so…"

"Aiden. Please wait." I hear the desperation in her voice as she grabs me. Her hand is cold and trembling. Her face seems crumpled with heartbreak. But why? I've given her everything she deserves - to be loved by someone who will never hurt her.

I tug my arm away from her grasp, disgusted with myself for not being that someone. "I - can't. I truly have to leave. Now. I'm sorry."

"Did you kill my step-brother?" she blurts out. And although I'm able to mask the shock I feel from her realizing it was me, I have to forcibly swallow down the disgrace of losing control like I did that night.

"Sorry," she says. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that exactly."

By all accounts, answering this question is probably not a good idea.

I want to, however. I want to tell her everything.

"I-"

"No more half-truths, okay?" she pleads. "It was you, right? Who Angela saw in the street that night?"

I shake my head a bit, struggling to keep my voice even. "It could have been a version of just about anyone, really. Me included. Quite easily, in fact."

"Are you saying-"

"We all have a monster living inside us somewhere, Isabella."

And the look she gives me - it allows me a glimpse into what I may have experienced had I been able to get to her first that evening. Before finding the vampire. Before Poseidon. Before she fell in love with Edward Cullen.

I don't exactly see disappointment there. Or fear. But I'm not sure there is acceptance either.

"He was going to hurt me, wasn't he?" She seems to already know the answer though.

"I really must go, Isabella. Please." My desperation is beginning to show along with my deep desire to be with her, always. I try to escape her orbit, but she's determined to hold me there.

"Hades."

I stop. My jaw clenches tight. Hearing my name called out by the one person who holds power over me sends a shiver down my spine.

I'm unable to respond, however. I'm a statue, unsure of what turning to face her might bring.

"That brother?" she says. "The Greek god? The one who doesn't have any stars?"

I put great effort into breathing normally before turning around. I _know _I should leave. I simply _can't_ bring myself to.

I do attempt to shake away the pain it causes to be this close to her again, unable to take her in my arms and show her how much I love her.

How much I will eternally love her.

"Um." She swallows as I gaze down at her with the frustration of not being strong enough to leave her behind. "I just - can't really discuss it with Edward, you know, he's not very-" she takes a shaky breath- "Greek god savvy."

I'm not sure where she's going with this. Or what good she thinks will come of it.

"Anyway, Hades…"

Another stab to the heart. Why does she torture me so?

"What about him?"

"I wondered. I mean, I was reading something… and… well, suppose those stories about the gods are real? Suppose they slip away every so often and mingle with…" She pauses before saying it. "Humans."

Her words seem more than just a mere curiosity. I cannot seem to speak at the moment to tell her it's prosperous though.

Perhaps part of me wants her to believe it.

Regardless, I remain silent as she continues with her theory.

"Suppose he stole the love of someone he never had any business being with in the first place?" she asks. Or says. I'm not sure which. "Suppose he broke her heart?"

And now it's my breath that's unstable. But I steel myself into responding with what I've known to be true all along.

"I suppose that would make him a very selfish god, wouldn't it?"

She purses her lips before answering. "Yeah. I guess it would."

"Unforgivable, one might say."

"Aren't we all?" She shrugs.

But I can't agree with her on that one. "Not all of us."

Isabella's expression seems tormented by something. She's having some sort of inner debate with herself. I can only imagine what she's about to say. And I have no choice but to stop her from saying it out loud.

"I-"

"Don't," I beg her.

I don't know if I will be able to continue to be the good guy if I hear her say the words. Or _don't _hear her say them.

I know if she does, though, I will steal her away.

My head moves, slowly, side to side. There's a part of me, a very large part that wants her to speak the words… that is desperate for her to say it.

"Why?" she asks instead.

"Because." I smile only part of the way. "Some of us simply aren't worthy of it."

Her face falls with the pain of the truth of it all. "Maybe not," she admits. "That doesn't change anything that's happened. Or how I feel. How I know _you _made me feel..."

I close my eyes. I urge myself to breathe. When I open my lids again to see her staring up at me, it takes everything I have to make this right. Finally.

"You deserve the sun, Isabella, not darkness. Not the cold. Not monsters or horrifying creatures pulling at your will day after day for an eternity. Besides..." I actually grin, thinking back on the first time we met- "There are no novels to steal where I'm going. And no citrus for you to collect."

She laughs through tears that fall from her eyes now and they are like knives to my gut.

"Please don't make this any more difficult than it already is."

She swallows her sobs. "I'm not making it difficult, _you _are."

"I have to go." I eye the hallway that leads to Edward Cullen's office. "You'll be alright."

"Is alright good enough?"

"It has to be."

I turn to leave this Satan cursed world and try to breathe, then I hear it again. Only this time, she's not saying it in a hypothetical way that one might when they're talking about ancient stories and constellations.

"Hades."

She's calling out to _me_.

_My _name.

Mine.

Hades. Ruler of the Underworld. Deceiver of souls.

_Believe the rumors._

It causes a chill throughout my entire body to hear my name fall from her lips, knowing who I am. What I've done. It's enough to make me turn to face her one last time.

I am elated. And I am also full of anguish.

She holds my stare for just a moment before taking a few steps. Then in one fluid motion, she's up onto her tiptoes, sliding both hands around my neck, pulling me into her, and kissing me softly.

And I let her.

I fucking let her.

How could I not?

It's enough to remind me of all the times I nearly ended her life and to appreciate that I no longer feel that urge. I can just enjoy the absoluteness of her.

It's all the perfect amount of agony and more agony.

Feeling her touch again and her lips against mine, I can't help but let myself wonder what may have happened between us had I not had a vampire's will driving me. Or a brother determined to stop it from being so.

I know she won't let me go. Not easily. She's a stubborn creature, after all.

So I take the opportunity of this embrace, and I force her memories of me to be gone.

With a slip of my tongue, I take away our dance together here at the Brick and Mortar, the first night we met.

As I slide my hands around her waist and feel how soft and warm and inviting she is, I erase our kiss in the office.

I pull her into me, letting her body press against mine as I let our weekend at the beach fade from her memory.

Every touch, every look, every word spoken, and every moment of time spent together… by the time I finally end the kiss, is gone.

_I love you._

And the certainty of it stings like fire.

She'll remember meeting Edward Cullen, of course, and how he insinuated himself into her life. How she fell in love with him. She'll remember him coming for her in Gila Bend. She'll know of all the small and big moments we shared.

She won't know that it was me she shared them with.

As far as the vam- _human _goes, he can fend for himself. Fill in the blanks. Figure it out.

And if he doesn't, I will snap his neck and send him to Tartarus myself.

I release Isabella from my arms one final time and she sways a bit, as though her balance has been thrown off.

I catch her by the arm and she stares up at me with the smile I've grown to love.

"Thanks, I-" She fumbles with her words. She wants to finish her earlier thought but can't quite remember what she was going to say. Then she takes in a deep breath and meets my gaze again.

"Thank you," she says. "Not really sure what just happened there."

"Not a problem," I say as I let go of her arm, wanting nothing more than to hold her again. Forever.

She turns to go and I want to grab ahold of the humanity she's thrust upon me these past weeks and strangle the life out of it.

Self-hatred stops me.

Instead, I stand in the shadows of the bar for a while and observe the humans I've grown fond of for a bit longer.

Emmett is guarding the front door with Rose by his side. They share an easy laughter together.

Jasper sits in his corner but he's no longer alone. Alice is there to make him smile. The _real _Alice. Not a machine.

And the now human Edward Cullen appears from the hallway that leads to his office, on his way to a second chance at life. He sees Isabella at the bar and smiles like a man in love. He takes a few tentative steps in her direction. He changes directions a few times, second guessing what exactly he should do or say.

I cock an eyebrow and shake my head.

"Idiot."

Then finally, he makes his way to her.

He waits behind her, watching nervously for a few seconds. And as though she senses his presence, she turns around.

At first she smiles but then she realizes something. The space between her eyebrows dips into the V I've come to know and appreciate, then she takes a look around as though she's searching for someone.

Perhaps me.

Perhaps she doesn't know who anymore.

The urge to go to her is overwhelming, but I force myself to remain still. Then I flick my hand at the air to give her a nudge in the right direction.

Watching them struggle, knowing their insecurities and anxieties, it should all be enough to make me grateful to be a god. But I would give it up in a millisecond if it meant I could be insecure and full of anxiety _myself _for the rest of time with Isabella.

As she tries to make conversation with Edward, it's awkward between them for a few moments. Then he says something undoubtedly ridiculous as he grasps at his hair and waves a hand and it makes her smile. Laugh even. He grins down at her with a fascination I know well. And then it's clear.

I've done the correct thing.

I know it now.

He will care for her, he will love her, he will keep her in the sun.

And she will be happy.

As for me, it's time to go home.

My descent into the underworld is not without pain.

I arrive at the Styx and the sting of Isabella's grin is there, waiting for me.

As I walk beyond the Fields of Mourning, her laughter is like a knife to my heart.

And as I sit upon my throne and listen to the despair of the souls lost to Tartarus, her voice sings inside my mind. It's a Prince song, of course, and she's a horrible singer, but I close my eyes and I imagine what it would have been like to hear her say the words I stopped her from saying one last time.

_I love you._

And I realize Isabella was correct all along when she said I have a soul. Because now and forever, it will be crushed under the memory of her kiss against my lips.

* * *

**Whew.**

**PSA: Believe it or not, we're not done yet. (thank Satan) There are still some things to address… *innocent smile* we hope you join us for the last chapter, next week. **

**The song for this one is called "Hurt" by Eric Whitacre. **

**_Thanks _****so much to Sue for all of her beta-braining. ****_Thanks _****to Chrisann for all of the once-overs. And ****_THANKS _****to the ends of the underworld to you for reading this preposterous storyline.**

**AND UM… IF you like the idea of Marie and moi writing together as much as we do, check out our new JOINT account (Belladonna & TheFictionFreak) - we've got ideas for 2020, people. Link is in my profile, or fave authors if you want to come follow, fave, stalk. Whatever. **


	20. Chapter 20 Hades

**Chapter 20. Hades**

_All was well. _

The final words of _The Deathly Hallows_ weigh on my mind as I close the book. I've read this one many times by now, yet the thought still haunts me the same as it did the first.

A bit of sadness lingers. It doesn't quite bring the satisfaction one would think to the close of the wizard child's story. Not when there was so much loss throughout the series.

I place the book on the shelf next to the rest of Harry's young life and let out a heavy sigh as I turn and walk away from the novels. Then I begin my regimen for the day.

Minutes, years, _centuries_. They're all the same in the underworld.

Before my hiatus, which may have been eons ago for all I know, there were stretches of time where the tediousness of my life filled me up and swallowed me whole. After all, aside from ensuring the souls that arrive in my domain are where they're supposed to be and properly restraining ones it's deemed necessary to, what else is there to do?

Now, though, I often find myself settling in to read for days at a time to break up the monotony. Or listening to music from an old favorite. Or painting murals as the mood strikes me, wherever I happen to be.

And then, sometimes, when I allow myself an indulgence, I think about her.

_Isabella_.

And how for a very brief moment in my miserable existence, I felt quite content. Happy.

Loved.

I submerge myself in thoughts of the first time we met and how she danced with me to the voice of a musician that would forever remind me of her smile.

The first time our lips touched. And the second.

_Talk to me? _

_I'd much rather kiss you again._

The days just after as I watched her from afar, learning her habits, her preferences, her movements. And then I take extra care to recount every moment of time during our weekend at the beach, even the tiny miniscule grains of sand that I will forever despise.

The kiss on our balcony.

_I said no expectations this weekend, Isabella. _

_But I didn't._

The way she taught me the truest meaning of the word love that night. How it felt to be inside her. The warmth, the gentleness. The not so gentleness.

_Kiss me again._

The gift of the universe that she gave me at the planetarium. And how she allowed me to take her under the stars there.

_Tell me about Cassiopeia?_

_She was a goddess, like you._

I try not to tarry too long on what followed when we arrived back home.

I don't enjoy dwelling on the pain I felt leaving her. The pain I still feel, to this day.

I suppose I'm glad, mostly, that she was able to find her way to Edward. And that he kept good on his promise of loving her while making the most of his second chance at life.

Mostly.

Still, there's a small part of me that wishes there had been a way to keep her for myself; to give her sunlight _and _darkness somehow.

Practically all of me.

Every fiber of my being, actually.

But only when I allow myself an indulgence.

It happens more and more since Edward Cullen passed through my realm, years ago.

It turns out, one of the many downsides to being human is cancer.

When he arrived, I nearly expected Isabella would be with him. Imagine my disappointment when I realized he was alone.

Although his memories of being a vampire had faded once I returned his soul to his body, they returned upon his introduction to the underworld. And it was good to see him, if I'm being honest. I've never had anyone anywhere close to a friend before. I assume sharing a body and will with someone, understanding him on infinite levels, constitutes a thing such as friendship.

Never mind the fact that once upon a time he stood up to Poseidon in my defense.

We spoke of sailing and music, his paintings and our favorite books. How he got out of the nightclub business long ago, about Earthly matters of the rich and poor alike. Sickness. Disease.

I didn't dare ask about Isabella. I wouldn't have been able to bear the void of not being a part of her life all these decades, or be forced to imagine what might have been, had I chosen a different path.

Edward spent much of his time in the Elysian Fields for quite a while. He was taken aback by the fact that he was allowed there, but I wasn't surprised at all. Even in his vampiric state, at his core, he was good. As a human, he was more than exceptional. He was extraordinary.

There came a time, though, that due to the innate integrity of his soul, and the tremendous work he'd done on earth, fate had him sent back reincarnated, once she found the perfect role for him to play.

And so, once again, I was alone.

And Edward Cullen, the once vampire, was to become a priest.

Ironic.

I'll see him again someday, but not for many many years. And this time around, he won't know me as anything other than the god who rules his afterlife.

Yet another loss for me to tuck away into the recesses of my memories.

"Same as any other day, Cerberus." I scratch the hound behind his ear and he follows me as I glide throughout the underworld, taking note of the new souls and where they settle.

We stroll next to the Acheron river, appropriately, and I embrace the sorrow and pain I feel.

I stare out at its vastness for a moment, imagining it as a different body of water. One with a sun lit sky and blue green waves, where I sat next to a women with a soul lifting gaze, a beautiful laugh, and soft lips.

A woman who cared very deeply for me once.

I move on with focused thoughtfulness and, as we pass the Cocytus river, I attempt to drown out the wailing of the dead there with recollections of constellations and long drives, holding hands while the clean air blew through our vehicle, Prince's lyrics filling the car.

I avoid the Lethe today - the river of oblivion and forgetfulness. I don't wish to allow my thoughts to slip from my mind.

Not yet, anyway.

A ripple rolls through the ground and Cerberus begins howling, then he runs off, quite abruptly. Although I wish just once he would ignore his duties to give me the company I so desperately seek, I know he'll be back eventually.

A hound's got to do what a hound's got to do, I suppose.

As I make my way through the Fields of Mourning, the Asphodel Meadows, the Elysian Fields, and even Tartarus, I sense the beginnings of a familiar boredom of this routine. The same tasks day after day, year after year… the one thing that drove me away so long ago.

Then I remind myself of the chaos that trip above ground caused. The people it hurt. The torment I still endure because of it.

And I force myself to move along.

As I near the end of my rounds, I find myself at the Styx. I'm not quite sure why, really. I generally don't bother with the boat captain. While I'm here, however, I'm sure it couldn't hurt to ensure he's doing his job properly.

It only takes a moment and Charon barely recognizes that I'm there, but when I start to leave something very odd occurs.

There's a shift in the ground. A soft breeze. The faint scent of sunshine.

It surrounds me from out of nowhere, warm and inviting. Captivating even. Such a strange and non-existent occurrence in the underworld.

And then a familiar chill and the sudden knowledge of a soul that's only just arrived.

One I've been waiting on for an eternity it seems, and yet, the blink of an eye.

I smile and breathe her name as easily as the day I met her.

"Isabella."

I turn slowly. My heart races. My pulse quickens. My spirits lift.

I'm nearly unwilling to believe it at first, but when I face her I find - _yes._ And I smile because she's indeed here.

Finally.

She's as beautiful as the day I met her. Goddess-like as ever, with no thick layers of clothes to speak of anymore. Just a simple white dress that drapes her body, revealing curves and skin, causing a familiar desire to bubble up within me.

Her breath catches when our eyes meet. Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. Her legs brush against each other then her body relaxes and her chest moves in such a way that begs me to watch. And she speaks with the smallest of voices.

"Hi."

The hound circles her, playfully, sniffing at her feet and nudging her affectionately before licking her hand. She in turn kneels to pet him. "Hello boy." She laughs as he cheerfully leaps and yips around her, and when she stands again, she meets my inquisitive gaze.

"He literally likes no one, and yet here he is with you, as though you've raised him from a pup."

She shrugs and raises a single brow at me. "Canines like me." Then she steps a bit closer, taking in her surroundings, seemingly for the first time since arriving.

"It's beautiful here."

I laugh. "That's not the word most would use."

"That's because they don't know how to appreciate what's been given to them."

I narrow my eyes. "And you do."

She thinks on what she's going to say for a few moments. "Let's just say I've read up a bit on what to expect in the afterlife. And this is much more wonderful than I had imagined."

Then she appears a bit concerned. "But I'm not really sure how I ended up here and not… you know… I mean, Tartarus."

I shake my head because I, for one, am certain. "The judges know your heart, Isabella. Much like I do."

Hesitantly, she accepts my answer, knowing I'm right and probably feeling as though it's a waste of time to dwell on things like guilt. It has no place here. Her past was long ago, practically forgotten. It was before shades of what could be construed as good and bad were blurred, and the underworld no longer reprimanded humans for evil deeds committed for the purest of reasons.

And then, almost afraid to do so, she takes my hand. She looks up at me with a wonder and an intimacy I haven't known in what seems like forever. "Show me your world?"

I take a breath I feel has been trapped for eternity as I stare down at her, making sure I don't take my eyes off of her for a second. "I've waited an endless amount of time to hear you say that."

xXxXx

The first place I take Isabella is somewhere I've ached to be able to let her see - a secret room where I've done a little creating of my own - without Zeus's knowledge.

_For now._

"This is Nyx," I tell her. As she takes it in, she gasps and pulls her hand away from mine to cover her mouth, the full impact of it affecting her just as I had hoped. Tears well up in her eyes but they are not sad tears today.

"What is this?" she asks, taking in every brilliantly shining spec above. They light up the room like her presence. They glimmer as brightly as her eyes.

And why shouldn't they?

"They're your stars, Isabella. I'd create entire galaxies. For you."

Her eyes dart from the cluster of illumination to me. And she tries to say something but can't quite finish her thought as blush rises to her cheeks, perfectly matching some of the colors that hang above us.

She looks up at them again in awe and her emotions overtake and overwhelm her as the tears fall.

"They haven't reached Earth yet," I tell her, watching every move she makes . "But they will, when they're ready." Just north of Andromeda.

We may have stayed there for an hour. It could have also been a day. I'm not sure, nor do I care. I simply bask in the beauty of the woman I am with, once again.

Eventually, we leave the room and close the door behind us. And with her hand in mine, I lead her through the same path I took just before she arrived. This time, it doesn't seem boring or tedious. It doesn't leave me with the same heavy burden it has for an infinite amount of time.

This time, I'm not inspecting the souls that inhabit my domain.

I'm gazing at the beauty of Isabella while she walks beside me as though she was born to this world.

At some point during her visit, we end up back in my private room of solitude.

"I'm calling it Sylphium Isabella." _My heart._

And I can't help but grin proudly at her reaction to the wall of shelving that lines the back of the room now.

"You've been busy," she says, impressed.

And then she sees them - the complete set of Harry Potter novels I obtained long ago.

She strides over to them, happy that she hasn't lost the ability to surround herself with an archive of stories here.

My copies are worn around the edges and there are place marks for certain passages I found particularly interesting.

She reaches for one and picks it up, leafing through it with an interesting look.

Then she glances over at me with a cock of her brow.

She tries to hide the amused grin she wears now, but quickly decides to hell with it.

"Obsessed much?"

I shrug it off. "There were a few moments I wanted to revisit from time to time."

Her eyes widen and her brow rises even further. "A few?" She holds book five up for me to see. "There's an entire pad of sticky notes used up in this one alone."

She shakes her head but she's smiling as she rifles through to see where I've marked.

"Really, Hades."

My breath catches and my grin is shameless. But I'm no longer frozen with the fear of what her knowledge of me might do to us. What it might to do her understanding of who I am.

She knows me.

She knows where we are. What it means. And she's not running away.

She's embracing it.

"What?" she asks, unsure of why I'm so pleased.

"Say it again," I tell her, lust and want speckling each word.

She tilts her head just so, and the V between her eyes makes me want to take her, right here. Right now.

"My name," I tell her, beaming with anticipation. And with that, she places the book down onto the shelf and steps closer, a knowing smile playing at her lips.

"Hades," she says with a lifetime of love behind it.

I remember once, I was so afraid of her. Letting her get too close. Wanting to drain her body of its life force. But now…

"Hades," she says again, closer. More seductively this time.

And when she's within reach, about to allow my name to float freely from her lips again, I pull her to me and kiss her fully with every moment of every hour of every century I've endured without her.

Immediately, bits and pieces of the life she's lived flash inside my mind.

I see her, with Edward Cullen, laughing easily with one another.

Then eventually, a marriage proposal.

Friendly gatherings.

Her husband smiling down on her with tears in his eyes, as their first child enters the world.

_Diana._

She has Isabella's smile.

I see the girl, happily chasing a younger brother, Adrien_, _through a bookstore laced with first editions and rare collections, who then knocks over an entire stack of them, just for fun.

I can't help but grin. _The little devil._

I see a life learning about ancient histories.

And stars, brilliantly shining in the night as she points and teaches others about them. About one cluster in particular that makes her absolutely glow with pride, and … happy memories perhaps.

I break away from our kiss, dumbfounded, peering down at her with curiosity. "You shared my stories."

The sides of her mouth lift and her eyes gleam. "I did."

"But how did you-"

"I thought I'd dreamt you at first." She looks down, breaking eye contact for a brief moment. "Then for a while, I thought I might have lost my mind." She laughs a bit. "But eventually-" she finds my fixed stare again-"I pieced it together. You were real."

I can't bring myself to react. I'm not sure how she could have made this realization. How she could have possibly understood it while still alive, but… somehow. She did.

"There was always something lingering on the outskirts of my heart," she admits freely as I watch her, dumbfounded at the brilliance of her mind. "Something telling me where I truly belonged, despite the great life I had. Despite Edward… the kids… everything that was given to me."

My breathing quickens. My blood pulses so swiftly I believe my heart may just burst out of my chest.

"I've been here," I tell her breathlessly. "Thinking perhaps I'd lost my mind as well from time to time."

"Like Orpheus."

The joy of hearing her know exactly what Greek ancestor to reference is beyond explanation. "Yes." Then I laugh. "Just like Orpheus."

"After I read about him, I found his lyra in the sky one night," she tells me effortlessly. "Such a simple constellation. But it also said so much."

"Agreed," I confess. The story of the musician and the way he'd lost the love of his life – twice - has always been a sad one. Particularly since I played a part in the latter.

And then, Isabella's entire body moves as though she's getting ready to hand me a gift of some sort that she's excited to share.

"I named a new one, you know?" she tells me, proud of her accomplishment. "It was the first time in history it's been done since the eighteenth century."

I'm quite proud of her as well. "You what?"

She thinks on it purposefully as she holds my stare, and I can see it there, behind her eyes.

Five brilliant lights among the vastness of the universe. It nearly resembles a broken heart.

I find it difficult to react, or speak for that matter. I'm overwhelmed with the significance of what she's done.

"I named them Aidoneus," she divulges. "Otherwise known as-"

"Hades," I finish quietly.

I'm scarcely able to speak beyond that.

"You deserve to be up there more than any of them," she whispers to me with a touch of her hand to my cheek.

My eyes close at the warmth of her touch and I say her name that way I know she wants me to. "Bella. I-"

"I've missed you," she murmurs. There's desperation in her words, the same desperation I felt the moment we met. And every moment thereafter.

I place a hand over hers, slipping the other around her waist. I tug her as close as possible to me, and I can barely seem to utter the words, but still, they are said.

Softly, sincerely, wholeheartedly.

"I love you."

She nods and her eyes become pools of glass. "I never stopped loving you."

With those simple words, ones I've barely allowed myself to hope I'd hear again, I slide a hand around to the crook of her neck, holding her carefully, as the precious creature she is, and kiss her slowly, deliberately.

This room once replicated the office of the Brick and Mortar - a place I considered my home for a short while. I found solace in its familiarity for a time, but eventually, it simply reminded me of the pain of losing Isabella. Now it's scarcely the same. Except for one item - a large white rug, covering most of the floor.

I lower the two of us down onto the thick, velvety carpet and rid Isabella of the intrusive thin piece of material she arrived in. She glows with the flames of my desire for her, restored at full force as I take the entirety of her goddess-like figure. She pulls at my clothing, and in an instant, as though she's willed it away, it's gone as well, leaving me naked before her.

My fingers trail her arms, her breasts, her legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Touching her reminds me she's truly here. Her countenance tells me it's where she wants to be.

Isabella lets her eyes close for a bit, and when she opens them again, there's a craving in her expression that says she's been waiting for this moment almost as long as I have.

Almost.

When she slides her hands up, along my torso, urging me backwards to lie down before her - I do it. Quite easily. Because truth be told, I would kneel before her for a millennia if only she requested it.

As she swings her leg over to straddle me, Isabella braces herself against my chest, wasting no time in connecting us once again. She gasps as she allows me to enter her fully. Even after such a long absence of her skin against mine, I find we fit together quite perfectly - as seamlessly as ever.

I'm no longer simply the god of Hell. I am but a man in love with this woman, surrounded by her warmth.

Precisely where I belong.

Where I've always belonged.

Long before we met.

My entire body shakes with the emotions I strive to keep at bay. No matter how far I search in the realms of my mind, there are no words that seem to do my adoration for her justice. As Isabella moves and rocks, whimpers and moans, I can't help but take her by the hips and express my feelings in a more physical way.

I sit upright. I pull and push. I place not so tender kisses along her neck, her breasts, her jaw, her lips. Everywhere. Her fingers are tangled in my hair, her legs are wrapped around me, tight. Her voice whispers a raspy, "Fuck," as I push harder, deeper.

A cyclone of passion wrapped up in my overwhelming love for her grows somewhere inside me, expanding and flourishing from an infinitesimal point to everywhere, all at once. And when I reach the point of climax, the intensity of it all causes me to lose each and every sense of reality… whatever that may be.

The air around us thins, the room evaporates, the heavens are abruptly upon us, and the stars explode in celebration of their queen returning home to them.

I cry out her name and hold on to her for dear life, unable to let go even as I come down from the high of loving Isabella.

And then, as we gather our wits again, there we lay, entwined in each other for moments after. It could be years, for all I care.

Kissing. Touching. Tugging. Pulling.

I worship her body in ways I've dreamt of a thousand times since leaving her.

And when we're completely spent, we stake our claim on that rug and we simply exist.

Blissful and content with just being here with her, I listen to her heartbeat as it quietly thumps away. I feel the rise and fall of her chest. And I take great pleasure in the fact that there is no longer an urge to kill her.

"What happens now?" she asks wistfully, disrupting my thoughts.

Her absence is not something I've been looking forward to, intermittent as it may be. It's a necessity, however, that I cannot say I didn't expect.

Still, I can keep her here, with me, for a while longer.

"You have the entirety of this domain to choose from, Isabella," I tell her as I blindly skim my fingers along her arm. "You need only pick a realm and it's yours. Or if you wish it, I'll create a new one. And I'll take you there myself."

"Do I have to?" she questions.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, couldn't I just stay… here? With you?"

Her inquiry is enough to stop me from thinking clearly. About anything. "You would choose the dankness of this place over the Elysian Fields? Even the Asphodel Meadows are better than-"

"Neither of which is where you are," she says without another thought, lifting her head to look thoughtfully into my eyes with the same acceptance I remember from my time with her on Earth.

"I would see you still." _Thank Satan. _"I visit every corner of this world daily, Isabella. I have to, it's what I-"

"I don't _want _to see you every so often," she tells me adamantly. "I've waited too long for this. I don't want time and space to keep me from you ever again."

"But-"

"No." She pushes away from me and sits up. "Hades. Aren't you tired of doing what you think is the right thing? You said I could choose. I've chosen before and you didn't believe me, but I'm telling you right here. Right now. Believe me this time. I choose _you_."

As she stares down at me with determination and love, I don't know why I didn't see it before.

Why I'd assumed she didn't understand what she was asking that last night.

But I see it now.

In her eyes, her lips, her entire body as it sits before me, open. Willing.

"I'm so sorry, Isabella," I tell her. For everything I put her through. For not hearing her when I should have. For assuming the worst.

But she shakes her head and leans in to me, placing a kiss against my lips. "You sacrificed, Hades. And you gave me a life I never thought I could have, something I didn't think I ever deserved. You showed me a good man who loved me, children I wouldn't trade for the world. And you have nothing to be sorry for."

And once again, she's rendered me speechless.

"But now, you don't get to sacrifice anymore, okay? I'm here. And I'm staying."

I'm stunned silent for a bit. Unable to fully comprehend how I, Hades, Ruler of the Underworld, protector of the dead, could ever deserve such a beautiful, perfect, selfless creature as Isabella. And yet, here she is.

Choosing me.

So I will myself the nerve to ask the question I've wanted to ask her for an eternity.

"Forever?"

And then she smiles and takes my face in her hands, happy that I've finally accepted what she did so long ago.

"Forever."

My heart is consumed with absolute acceptance when she says it. It's so full of everything I've always desired that I fear it might burst as I realize, holding Isabella here, with me, in Hell… for the first time… I _am _Hades, but I am also truly loved - irrevocably.

It seems as though the child wizard was right after all.

In the end, all truly _was _well.

* * *

**Roll credits to a Purple Rain (redux) by Prince (maybe he's in the underworld somewhere, singing this live for these two)**

**PSA: This story was a little different. Right? Okay. It was. But - it's what drove me to write again so I regret nothing. **

**Deepest, darkest, sincerest thanks to the god of Hell fans out there who were gracious enough to put up with a twilight fanfiction even though it was absent of Edward for most of the time (sort of)… I'm so stupid happy you were feeling it. Special thanks to our FB group peeps for putting up with our crazy and helping us get through the tough parts. - if you haven't yet, now is a great time to go read belladonnacullen's BELLA POV in Friend of the Devil.  
**

**Thanks to Sue for reaching out and beta'ing this bizzaro story. Thanks to Chrisann for saying "post it". And for real, belladonnacullen… (I'm not crying I swear) thanks for saying yes to giving Bella a voice. You make me want to be a better everything. I haven't had this much fun writing in, as Edward would say, "a while". Love you lady. All hail Hades. And the fucking rug.**

**YO. Don't forget to follow "Belladonna and TheFictionFreak" for some fun 2020 collaborations.**

**Peace out guys, much love. I mean that.**

**Jo**


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